Heat
by IlincaDiana
Summary: It's an incredibly hot, unbearably hot summer in London. Hermione works as an investigator in the Department Of Magical Law Enforcement. Her professional life is excellent, whilst her personal one is slipping away.
1. Chapter 1, Heat

**A.N. : Hey, guys! I have a few things I'd like to clear out before you read this. This is my first fanfic, ever, so please be gentle.**

 **Secondly, English is not my native language, but I really hope to improve my vocabulary and writing skills whilst developing this story.**

 **Thirdly, I'm on my summer vacation and have quite some time on my hands. So I'll probably update daily when I have the time and less often when I have other plans. Anyway, I plan on finishing this story before the summer break is over. I'm extremely excited to write this. Thus, there may be mistakes and sloppy writing from place to place so I'll probably edit older chapters as I go.**

 **Lastly but not least, I expect this fanfic will contain mature content, so beware. I will let you know beforehand.**

 **Love & Please review!**

Chapter 1.

The sun was high in the sky. It was a warm afternoon, perhaps too warm; closer to torrid, really. The fact that the air was humid, that London was (as always) congested and crowded like a hotbox, didn't help too much, either. English people weren't used to this kind of weather. Put an Englishman in the middle of a crowd while it's raining cats and dogs, thundering, for hours and hours, and he will manage. Some will find a place to crawl to, in order to avoid the heavy falling rain, others will just walk straight through it, ignore it, actually, without getting an inch of their white, untouched by sun, freckle-covered skin wet. Whereas if you put an Englishman in the hot, sizzling sun for more than a couple of hours, he will have no clue as to what to further do. Heat and sun affect British people's minds like no other nation on this planet. They will start hallucinating, behaving reckless and uncharacteristically without even realizing.

Hermione Granger was walking at that time, in that blazing London sun. She was pondering her past few years, the ones that followed the war. Yes, she was pondering while walking through extreme heat, as crazy as it sounds. But then again, she was always pensive as of late. Of her parents, whom she had almost lost in the war, of her failure in the career she would've liked to have: The Department for the Regulation and Control of Magical Creatures, Being Division, fighting for the rights of House Elves. Of the career she had momentarily: Investigation Division in the Department of Magical Law Enforcement, a job she was, of course, very good at, but one that didn't satisfy her completely.

Most of her thoughts were, nevertheless, focused upon her failing relationship with one Ronald Bilius Weasley. This relationship was, say the least, life draining. It was sucking all of her energy, all of her good mood she sometimes came with from her job or from her meetings with parents of friends, all of her motivation, all that made Hermione her. In the beginning, when this feeling of incompatibility started, she ignored it, thinking this is how relationships are supposed to be after 2-3 months of happiness, discovering each other, and celebrating the victory of defeating Voldemort. But as more and more months passed, she found herself emotionally drained and unsatisfied because of all the fights and disagreements. Let's face it, she thought, after Hogwarts, after the war, she and Ron had nothing, and that meant NOTHING in common except school memories and their friends.

She wanted to read, he wanted to play Quidditch. He wanted to go out, she wanted to stay in. She wanted to go out, he wanted to stay in. She wanted to clean, he always made a mess. He wanted to get married now, she wanted to wait. He wanted children soon, she wasn't even considering it yet. He wanted to live near his parents, she wanted to live in London. She went to finish her last year at Hogwarts and take her NEWTS, he didn't even want to hear about it.

"Ron, you're going to be an unqualified worker! Anyone who wants a good position in the Ministry has to have at least 4 NEWTS taken, and you're not even considering coming to finish your studies, let alone take your NEWTS?" she said, her hands trembling from all the anger she kept at bay. She was not going to start a fight.

"Hermione, I'm a war hero. Who cares what qualifications I have or don't have? Besides, Harry isn't going either. " he said, waving a careless hand in her direction.

She looked at him then, for perhaps the first time, with entirely different eyes. She was dating a man who thought popularity, fame and gratification would get him anything he wanted. A coward, a sluggish, lazy, unmotivated person. All of a sudden, all the post-war haze that kept her, Ron and Harry in a constant state of bliss for a few months, was gone. Reality struck her hard: The war was over, they had won, but that didn't mean her life would be perfect from now on. On the contrary.

"I can't believe you think like that, Ronald. I'm going to Hogwarts in a few weeks whether you like it or not. I know Harry's not coming, but at least he has the decency of sitting the NEWTs!" she screamed, the anger surfacing at last. She couldn't keep it in anymore. She loved Ron, but he was becoming someone she didn't even like.

Then there was the problem of the limelight. Oh yes, how he enjoyed the attention. The first few days after the war were full of interviews from the press, addressed to all three of them: where they were into hiding before coming to Hogwarts, what were they looking for in Gringotts, what happened to Snape, how did Harry manage to play dead (Narcissa Malfoy was pardoned after Harry's confession of her last loyalties became known to the Ministry), and so on. Even in mourning after his brother Fred's death, Ron managed to take all the attention from them, answer most of the questions, and be unnecessarily enthusiastic. That appalled Hermione at first, later thinking it must have been some kind of coping mechanism. She couldn't have been more wrong. Ron was enjoying and searching for the limelight everywhere, always.

When they were in Diagon Alley, lunching, he would smile for the paparazzi and answer their questions while sitting at the table with Hermione. When unknown women would point at him on the streets, smiling and recognizing him, he would wink at all of them. It was all getting on Hermione's last nerves. But she didn't say anything, thinking that it would go away.

She couldn't have been more happy, back then, than to return as soon as possible to Hogwarts and have some time away from him, from everything.

When she came back from Hogwarts, she missed him terribly and couldn't wait to see him and tell him and Harry all about her last year there and her exams. The only problem was, he was exactly the same.

So now, two years after the war, Hermione was walking in the burning heat thinking and pondering about her life. She was leaving her office at the Ministry. It had been a good day. She and her partner had found the approximate whereabouts of one of the last few Death Eaters that remained uncaught : Rodolphus Lestrange. They were an incredible team, she and her partner: she was witty, sharp, had connections and experience tracing dark wizards. Him? He was cunning, intelligent, had connections and experience…working with them.

Yes, they were great. Their working chemistry was so extraordinary, in fact, that the Head of the Department held them as his most valuable and esteemed investigators the Division had. They were praised, extremely well paid and respected. He was, as far as she went, the most intelligent person she's ever known (outside the Hogwarts teachers, of course) beside herself. And they worked so well together, that they've caught a record number of Death Eaters in the last year, only three remaining: Antonin Dolohov, Rodolphus and Rabastan Lestrange, who were still killing and torturing people all over Europe. They were so close to putting a stop to all of this, so close.

She trusted him deeply. She had to, she thought when she realized that she probably trusted him more than Harry and Ron together. She had to, because her life depended on it. If he made a mistake, they both died and vice versa. She knew she could trust him with her life, and that he probably felt the same. Because they had to, she kept reminding herself. He was, also, an escape from her routine life she had with Ron. He made her laugh, he made her think, and he made her wonder. So Hermione often found herself coming happy and smiling from her job only to have her smile wiped away by something Ron did or said.

Hermione stopped for a bench in the shadows of a large tree to sit and regain her breath and her thoughts. It was so damned hot, she couldn't think properly. She thought more of her job partner than of her life partner. This couldn't be right. But no, she thought, this is because of this bloody blazing sun. It's making me irrational. Yes, that's it, she thought. So she got up from the bench and Apparated home, trying not to give Draco Malfoy another thought, at least for today.


	2. Chapter 2, Unbearably hot

**Thank you for reading the first chapter, guys! Love & Please Review!**

Chapter 2.

Hermione walked the short distance from the Apparition point to her home, at a slow step. The sun was slowly lowering in the sky, leaving an orange-purplish haze in the atmosphere. It was really mesmerizing. The temperature also dropped by a few degrees making it easier for her to breathe and think properly. It had been an extremely busy week. She and her partner had finally located Rodolphus Lestrange, somewhere in the Slovakian mountains. Their job, however, was not done, as they could probably be summoned to join the Auror squad that would track him down, if the situation required so. Reaching her house she looked at it longingly. Hermione was tired and all she wanted was to crawl into bed and sleep the night off.

The house was a southern french style, one story with a low roof and eggshell outside walls. It had a small pool in the pretty little backyard and a white picket fence surrounding all the property. It was a muggle house, and she loved it.

"I'm home!" she shouted from the foyer, taking her coat off. No one answered at first, but then Ron emerged from the kitchen wearing a weary smile.

"'Mione!" he said closing the distance between them and leaning in to kiss her. She passively kissed him back, letting his thin lips graze against hers. He tasted like Firewhiskey, again. "I heard you found Lestrange's location. Congrats!"

"It was mainly Malfoy, but yes. And the job is far from over." she said, irritated, determined not to start a fight.

"I heard Harry's on the case, but I didn't get on." he said, not hiding his disappointment. At the mention of her partner's name, his face turned a few shades redder.

"Yes, Harry's already told me. I'm sorry you're disappointed."

He shrugged. "Do you reckon it's because we're involved? I mean they never put us working for the same cases."

Hermione knew quite well that was not the only reason he was never on the more important, complex cases, but chose not to voice her honest opinion on the situation. "Yes, probably. I don't think they like having couples working together." she said, heading for the kitchen.

Ron followed her. "I just hate knowing you always have to be around that ferret." he said, his anger and jealousy surfacing. "You even started going to lunch with him!" Ron shouted, his fists clenching and his face flushed.

So that was what all this chit chat had been about. Her partner.

"Ronald, we're both professionals. We do our jobs extremely well, we're partners so we have to respect and trust each other, and you know that." she said, trying to hide her annoyance behind her words. How did he know about their lunch yesterday? They went to a muggle restaurant. Yes, she managed to take Draco Malfoy to a _muggle_ restaurant.

 _"I've just flooed the Slovakian Minister. He says Rodolphus was last seen two days ago in the Tatra Mountains. He seemed to have settled there for quite a while; so if we dig a little deeper we might finally be able to track him tomorrow." Draco said, with a smug face._

 _"I can't believe you were right... All this time! I was sure he'd go to Ukraine, and I splintered my brains trying to reason with their Ministry, and all this time, you were on the right track." Hermione said, smiling widely._

 _"I told you, Granger. Ukraine was just too obvious, my uncle isn't stupid. I'm always right. Even you can't deny that." She looked at him with raised eyebrows. Of course she could deny that. He was wrong, sometimes._

 _"I'm drained. And famished." she said, pausing. Would it be right to ask him? In 14 months of being partners, not once had they had lunch together. But this was a big case, and they were so close to solving it... "There's a great Moroccan food restaurant not too far away. Aren't you...hungry?" she asked, hesitantly. She didn't know how he'd respond._

 _"You, taking me to lunch to a muggle restaurant? Even you aren't that dim."_

 _"Come one, Malfoy, I swear the food is excellent. I'll even let you take all the credit for this case."_

 _"I deserve that credit, Granger, there's nothing to let!" he said, his voice raised._

 _"Fine. I'm going. I don't even know why I asked. You're insufferable!"_

 _"You're right, I've no idea why you bloody asked. If the Weasel finds out you're having lunch with me he might explode like a tomato under this unbearable sun." he laughed at his own idea. Actually, that would be quite fun to watch. Why not go? People were already expecting him to do muggle stuff as a proof for his changed views and lifestyles. At least Granger wouldn't take him somewhere hideous. He could mock her a little, but he knew very well, her company was an excellent one. They always had things to talk about besides their work together, she always had strong arguments for her opinions, even though they sometimes differed from his. Draco learned and knew to admire this in a person. Yes, he could go._

 _"Wait, Granger." he said on his husky tone, catching her arm as she walked out the door. The moment his hand caught her arm, her skin filled with goosebumps and her stomach started to flutter. She chose to ignore it completely, hoping he wasn't looking at her arm._

 _"Yes, Malfoy?" she said, furrowing her brows, but with an amused face._

 _"I-I'll come, too. My muggle knowledge has to grow sometime, and why not start with their food?"_

 _She smiled, her face lightening up. "I quite agree. Your muggle knowledge is as bad as it can get. You don't want people believing you're still after those pure blood superiority ideals, right?" He smirked. "Of course."_

It had been and extremely amusing afternoon. They talked for less than 20 minutes about the case, and then they emerged in a discussion on Arithmancy problems, History of Magic, Ancient Runes and Healing Potions. He was a pleasant discussion partner, keeping up with her ideas like no one else could before. He challenged her, mocked her, contradicted her, and was even right, several times. She felt relaxed and forgot about anything else in the world for those 2, short hours. That night she returned to a snappy, irritable Ron, trying to be nice to him, trying to converse with him as she did with Malfoy. She tried to fool herself that Ron was her perfect chat partner, her perfect lover, her perfect friend. They ended up fighting. Fighting about his drinking problem, about his resentfulness, about their relationship "not going anywhere further", as he called it.

She didn't want it to happen tonight, too. She was too tired.

"I know it's just... when I see his smirk I remember how he used to mock us and make our lives hell at Hogwarts. How he used to call you "Mudblood". How can you get over that?"

"He still mocks us, I beg to differ, but in a more mature way. And he hasn't called me that word - thank you for reminding me, by the way - in over three years. You're an insufferable, immature, prick, right now." she protested.

"Yeah, 'cause I'm the one who's not ready to get married."

There was a long pause, Ron not daring to speak any longer and Hermione eyeing him with a a look that could kill kittens. "Bravo, Ronald. Throw that in my face, as if it's fair! I'm 20, Ron, 20 years old! We've barely finished school and gotten jobs... No, wait. _I_ have barely finished my studies as you didn't even bother to do that! And you think you can handle marriage? Or worse, parenting?!" she said panting, gasping for air.

She couldn't have been angrier than that, her hair tousled, her eyes watery and her hands trembling. "I really don't want to fight right now, Ronald. I'm going to bed."

She stormed past him and walked to her bedroom, where she would definitely be sleeping alone tonight. The bedroom had three burgundy walls and a dark brown one, with floor to ceiling windows that had long velvet red curtains, with a view to her backyard. The opposite wall had a four poster canopy bed with white and red bed dressings. The right wall had a big closet, and the left wall had shelves and shelves drowned by hundreds of leather bound books : Muggle and Magic. The decorations were minimal, mostly french style: lavender, a silver Tour d'Eiffel, paintings of Paris views and coffee shops, her Order of Merlin First Class and a bonsai.

She undressed quickly and threw herself in her comfortable bed, and unaccompanied by Ron's snoring she fell into a deep slumber.

 **There were some grammar and spelling mistakes, which I corrected. I'm glad there is some interest in this story, I plan on updating two or three times a week. Please review!**


	3. Chapter 3, Glacius

Chapter 3.

Her heels were clapping through the Ministry's Atrium. She was fifteen minutes late for work, a thing that only happened to her once since she worked for The Department of Magical Law Enforcement. She had overslept, falling into a relaxing, deep slumber without Ron's usual snoring and tossing. She reached for one of the elevators, straightening her black, knee-length pencil skirt. She had opted for a more daring outfit that morning: 4 inch beige stilettos, a black, tight skirt, and a gray loose fitted top with a little bit of cleavage. Her hair tied in a high bun, as usual, and a little bit of make-up, and most men's eyes were upon her.

In truth, she liked feeling beautiful and appreciated for more than her brains. As of late, she was hardly ever reminded of that fact. Ron was too busy complaining about how his life was not how he wanted it to be by this point: he was a regular Auror, who never got to work on key cases, he wasn't married yet, he lived in London, he had a drinking problem and he had a…receding hairline. Hermione didn't know why he was so surprised by that fact, Arthur Weasley had been bald for as long as she had known him. Also, Harry Potter, had once again one-upped him by being engaged to his sister, having a thriving Auror career and still being loved by all.

Just as Hermione got off the elevator she bumped into a very familiar face.

"Harry! I'm so glad to catch you before you leave." she cried, hugging him.

"Hermione, so good to see you, too! I was just heading out of your office. Malfoy filled me in with everything I need to know before I'm heading to Slovakia. Good job, by the way, both of you! "

"Thank you, but it _was_ mostly him on this one. So you're going today? I understand you're going with Dean and Robards."

"Yea, and a few Hit-Wizards. We'll probably be gone for a few weeks, as we'll try to interrogate Rodolphus on his brother's whereabouts. If we get that information, we'll be going straight for him. You'll probably be needed then, so don't get yourselves on another case yet. "

"Of course. So I hope you're coming back in time for your wedding, Harry." She said, jokingly poking his chest. "Don't worry, I'm not running away. Ginny would go nuts. We'll be in touch, take care, Hermione."

"Good luck to you all, take care! Try not to knock him down before he gives his brother's location. He might be close by." she said, hugging him once more before heading for her office. She entered, only to find it empty. Sighing, she walked by her desk and looked at the other deserted bureau. Its occupant would probably be back soon, but she strangely felt the need to peek through his stuff. Why did she have this sudden urge to see her partner's stuff? Hermione wasn't curious of other people's lives. She had her own busy, complicated life to ponder upon, thank you very much. Still, she did.

His desk was neatly organized. A few papers were in a corner, a sneakoscope on the top of them. The other corner contained a picture of Paris (what?!), a small vial with a dark purple potion (could be Fire Protection or Dreamless Sleep) and the beautiful wrist watch he used to wear, but now that she came to think of it, he hadn't, in a few months. She lifted it without a moment's thought and turned it to read the engraved message: "My love for you will always conquer."

"You're late, Granger." A deep, slightly nasal but husky voice said. She raised her head in surprise, her cheeks turning a deep shade of pink, her hands hiding his watch behind her. "Malfoy! I-I…"she trailed. "You? Were going through my stuff, I presume. My, my who would've taken you for a snooper?" he said, smirking. "I wasn't snooping! They were here, on the table, I didn't go through your private things!" she protested. "Sure. Why's my watch in your hands then, Granger?" he asked, raising an eyebrow. "I don't know what you're talking about. Like I give a damn about your stuff. I was only looking for a file." She said, trying to sound as neutral as possible.

"Fine. What file?" he asked casually. Her head was spinning trying to remember a file he could have on his desk at that moment. "Rabastan's, of course. We might need it soon." She said, holding her breath, since she wasn't a very good liar. But then again, this was only half a lie. "I don't have it, and you should know that, Ace." He said, his face relaxing a little. At the sound of that name, her knees weakened, her face flushed again, her stomach fluttered. It wasn't a pet name or something, but coming from him, it was very close to one. Of course, Rabastan's file. How could she forget?

Just a week ago, on a Friday just like this, they were looking through the Lestrange brother's file, at her desk. It was so hot that day, that even the Ministry's potent cooling charms couldn't keep the waves of heat from penetrating its quarters, hundreds of feet under the ground. She was using a few of the files as a fan, while undoing a few buttons from her top.

" _What are you doing Granger? You can't use official Ministry papers for cooling off! You're a witch, for Merlin's sake, do I have to remind you that?" Draco told her, looking down at her now visible cleavage._

" _I can't stand this heat, it's unbearable." She looked at him. Why did he suddenly look so uncomfortable?_

" _Stop that. Glacius!" A blue light came from the tip of his wand, and the air quickly turned cold, their breaths forming thick white mists._

" _Better?" he asked._

" _I could've done that myself, you know. I'm perfectly capable of casting 3_ _rd_ _year charms." she said, irksomely._

" _But you didn't. You kept fanning those bloody papers over your torso and undoing your buttons, like we're in some cheap muggle film or something." She looked at his still uncomfortable face in wonder. What was he suggesting? It was really cold now, her body covered in goosebumps with the hairs standing on end, and her breath jerky_ _. He seemed fine with the temperature, however._

" _Malfoy. I'm quite cold now…"_

" _Well, tough luck, you can't always have your way! Just cover yourself and let's finish reading these records." She looked at the papers and saw they now had a fine coating of ice on them. She took some and shoved them in his face._

" _Look at these files! Are you pleased now? Finite Incantatum! " she cried, waving her wand. The papers turned back to normal, but they were close to indecipherable._

" _I'm sure I can fix them, Granger." He said leaning in closer to her in order to get them._

" _No! You won't touch these files again until_ _ **I**_ _fix them." She gathered them and locked them in a drawer from her desk, putting a privacy charm on it. The moment she leaned from the low drawer, she bumped into something hard, yet warm. She looked up and found herself swimming into a light gray sky intertwining with pools of icy blue streaks. Those eyes were usually expressionless or sarcastic when she looked into them but now…now they twinkled, they sparkled, it was like his eyes were trying to tell her something, something she could not comprehend, at least not for now. He was so close, his head just a little above hers. His lips were slightly parted, and she could sense his faintly ragged breathing upon her face._

 _Everything else was, then and there, about his face. Nothing else existed, except his perfect eyes and the invisible electrical field that seemed to surround them and tingle the surface of her hair, skin and lips. She realized her breathing had become uneven, too, and that her skin hairs stood up to their ends, like never before. Never before has she been so close to him, in one year of working together. Never beforehand has she really noticed his scent: a rich, leathery but spicy aroma with a touch of spearmint. There might have been other occasions to bring them locking eyes like this, but it was never this intense or for so long…_

 _Hermione didn't know how much time had passed. Could have been hours, centuries for all she knew. She didn't move one inch in the meantime, keeping her eyes fixed upon his. He was also, staring back. She found herself leaning in, closer to the mesmerizing sight Malfoy's eyes offered. Their faces were close, too close, when the door to their office opened loudly and Neville walked in, their close faces being the first thing he noticed. They both cringed and jumped off their seats. "Neville! What brings you here?" Hermione cried, her face blushed and covered in sweat beads. Malfoy's face was, however, and entirely different story. His brows were so closely furrowed together and his eyes so narrowed, that he looked closer to an eagle hunting…_

She shifted uncomfortably at the memory, straightening her skirt yet again. "Yes, I forgot I have it. Thank you for reminding me, Malfoy."

"No problem. The look on your face was priceless, so anytime. Now give me my watch."

"I-…just…Fine!" she staggered. She closed the distance between them with a few steps and reached her hand forward, giving him his watch. "I…I shouldn't have looked. I don't know what got into me." She finally managed to say. "It's fine." He said with his usual straight, impenetrable face, taking the watch and pointing his wand at it, shouting: "Reducto!". A blue, powerful light emerged from it, turning the watch into a fine, silvery powder, which Malfoy threw in a bin close to them.

"Why did you do that? It was clearly a meaningful present from a significant person." she asked, bewildered.

"Yes well, that person no longer means anything to me, so as I have dozens of watches just as expensive, I most certainly won't feel sorry about this one." He said, with an air of finality in his voice. It was crystal clear to Hermione that he didn't want to discuss this subject anymore. And she was content to oblige.

"So, Ace. Lunch?" he asked, showing his crooked smile. She didn't know why, but the answer "no" didn't cross her mind for even one second.

 **I want to thank all the followers for taking interest in this story.** SeptemberOwl853, **I certainly hope I'm not making them too OOC.** xXMizz Alec VolturiXx **and Guest, thank you very much, I hope you liked this chapter, too. Please review, your feedback is vital to me, as this is my first fanfic ever! Lots of love.**


	4. Chapter 4, Fiery red

Chapter 4.

 **Disclaimer: Oops, almost forgot about that. Every character, place, past action or creature in this story belongs to J.K. Rowling and I thank her deeply for that. I, in any way, have no gather from what I write, except the inexplicable happiness I get from seeing that you guys enjoy my fiction.**

"That is a very good colour for you, Hermione." Ginny said.

It was a Saturday afternoon, and she and Ginny were in a dress boutique in Muggle London, shopping for her bridesmaid gown. Ginny and Harry's wedding would be in two weeks, so the last minute preparations were necessary.

"Of course you'd say that, it's the colour theme _you_ picked for _your_ wedding, it's not like I have a choice." Hermione said, rolling her eyes at her friend.

"Oh come on, brighten up. You're so tense lately, what's up?"

Hermione didn't respond. She was playing with the long straps of the dress she was trying. It was floor-length, silk, fiery red gown. It was tight around her torso and upper legs, flowing loosely from the knees down. It closed at the back with two long strips that ended in tassels. It really was beautiful, complementing her body curves. But red really wasn't her colour, or at least that's how she saw it.

"Is it my idiotic brother? Again?" Ginny demanded. "Wait, of course it is."

"Ginny…"

"No, don't Ginny me. Listen. As much as I would like you to be my sister not only in theory, but also in law, I know a well-suited couple when I see one. I used to think you and Ron were very good for each other, that you completed one another, but now I'm not so sure." Ginny said, with a serious look on her face.

"Ginny, I'm…"

"Hermione, let me finish. I know you believe we all want you to be together: me, Harry, mom. It is true, we do. But we all know how Ron can be, and moreover we know how demanding and difficult he must be now, with all this supposed disappointment, so don't. Don't worry yourself with pleasing and appeasing others, for once, just think about what _you_ really want. Because if Ron isn't who you truly want, no one, and I repeat, _no one_ will judge you or discredit you. You're family, no matter what. Do you understand?" Ginny said, taking her by her shoulders and shaking her slightly.

Hermione stood there, dumbstruck. She had always known Ginny was wise and mature, but she had always thought the youngest Weasley would judge her if she ever even considered leaving her brother. Now that she came to think of it, the main reason she had put off her thoughts of leaving Ron was because she was afraid of what the others would say, what the others would think of her, of how they would discard her. With those thoughts put to rest she could concentrate on how _she_ would feel without Ron. There would be plenty of downsides. But oh, plenty advantages as well… No, she wouldn't think about it now. She would think about it tomorrow. Maybe do a pros/cons list.

"I understand that, Ginny, and I really appreciate it." She finally said, hugging her friend.

"If you ever want to talk about it in detail, I'm here. Although I think Luna would be a more suitable judge than me, as I could be slightly… subjective." Ginny said, grinning. She actually thought of discussing it with Luna, too. Their mutual close friend had a talent in being impartial when the circumstances required so.

"Thank you, again. Now, the dress. I think I really like it, Ginny." She said, smiling.

Ginny beamed, "Perfect! You really look gorgeous. My brother will feel sorry he ever treated you as less than a queen!"

Two hours later, with bags full of clothes, hair potions, candles, ribbons and lots of decorations, Hermione and Ginny headed for lunch on Diagon Alley. They wanted to avoid the always crowded Leaky Cauldron so they opted for a more quiet restaurant, "The Coriander Salamander", where they were meeting Luna Lovegood.

The restaurant was located on the outskirts of Diagon Alley, and looked like a small Parisian café from the outside. They chose to sit at a three person table, outside, as the terrace was shaded by a neatly trimmed hedge and some trees. The tables were vintage metallic ones, and the pavement reminded Hermione of France. The whole terrace was surrounded by oleander and roses. It was a lovely place. The waiter came into view, carrying menus and a water carafe.

"Would you like to hear today's specials, ladies?" the young waiter asked.

"We're waiting for someone else, so if you could come back and take our orders then, it would be lovely. Thank you." Ginny said, browsing the menu. "Hermione, I forgot to mention one thing about this situation you have with my brother. Considering you are my bridesmaid and he is Harry's best man, would it be so terribly selfish of me to ask you to put whatever actions you want to take on hold?" she said, fluttering her eyelashes.

"How do you know I'm going to take any actions?" Hermione demanded.

"Hermione, how long have we known each other for? You're miserable. You've been miserable for almost a year, and that's just what I recollect. Merlin knows how long this has been going on for."

"I'm not miserable, Ginny. It's just that I didn't expect my life to turn out as it did. I really thought Ron was the one I was supposed to be with. Then I lowered my standards and hopes, and wished our problems would be resolved. I just don't know if I can lower them even more…"

"Have you talked about this?" Ginny asked.

"Of course we did! Do you really think I'd even be discussing this with you without having every possible talk with Ron beforehand? " she protested. Ginny nodded. So, she guessed, tomorrow would be now. "I'll put off whatever I'm considering for after the wedding. Look, Luna's coming". Luna Lovegood appeared behind Ginny, embracing her from behind.

"Hello, girls. I can't say I'm not surprised to see you lunch at _the_ _Coriander Salamander_. I thought only Quibbler readers ever came here." Luna said, smiling serenely.

"Oh, Luna, you know we read your column judiciously. So I guess that makes us Quibbler readers." Hermione said, smiling at her close friend and hugging her.

"So what are we ordering?" Ginny asked, a few minutes later as the waiter was approaching their table. "I think I'll take a Garden Salad and a glass of Elderflower wine." Ginny finally concluded.

"I'll take fish and chips and a glass of Celery and Beetroot wine. Thank you." Hermione said, handing her menu in to the waiter.

"A Fisherman's pie, please. And a glass of Elderflower wine, the Celery and Beetroot one has Umgubular Slashkilters in it. Thank you." Luna said, coolly.

"Umgubular Slashkilters?" Hermione asked. "Yes, quite right. So you know about them too! That's bizarre, ordering a drink you know has those nasty dust fairies in it." Luna added. Hermione smiled uncomfortably. She really had missed her strange friend.

"So, Ginny, has everyone RSVP'd to your invitations?" Luna asked.

"Yes, it's quite surprising how much people want to see Harry Potter getting married. The Minister owled us just two days ago, announcing the Ministers of France, Sweden, Romania, Germany, The United States, Belgium, India and Japan are coming as well. Over half of the Quidditch players in England are coming too. My family and all the Department of Magical Law Enforcement will probably occupy half the tent, nonetheless. I was hoping for a smaller wedding but I suppose that is out of the question when you're marrying The Boy Who Lived, The Boy Who Destroyed Voldemort and Dumbledore's protegee, all at the same time" She said, sighing dramatically. The other two girls laughed. Something else Ginny said caught Hermione's attention, though.

"The entire Department is coming?" she asked.

"Yes, _all_ of it. Why? Is there someone you don't want there?" Ginny asked a little suspiciously.

"No, not at all. Well, perhaps MacLaggen." She said, jokingly.

She didn't know why she was surprised. Hermione was well aware of the fact that Malfoy and Harry had somewhat gotten over their adolescent quarrels. They were actually getting along quite well, having more in common than anyone would have ever believed.

They had all misjudged Malfoy, in fact. Or, more accurately, he had misguided them. His childhood had been shadowed and destroyed by growing in a house and family where he was taught that Pure Blood was superior, everyone else inferior and deserving to be mocked and tortured. Hermione often found herself wondering, had she been in that position, would she have behaved differently? Well, yes, slightly more civilized and less cruel, for sure.

On the other hand, if a person is raised to believe something to their core, how can you expect them not to act accordingly unless strongly proven otherwise? It was unfair. Then, just when his adolescence began, his house and family were invaded by none other than The Dark Lord and all of his followers. It must have been terrifying, having your family threatened the way his had been.

When she first found out she would be working so closely to Malfoy, she hadn't been as horrified as she thought she would. She knew his acts during the war had been justified, but he had still made her six first Hogwarts years a living hell.

The last year, however, passed with them having to interact more than usual. They were taking the exact same NEWT subjects. She was named Head Girl, and Headmistress McGonagall had asked her to keep a subtle eye on him. And so she did. They had every class together, and as students were no longer required to sit at tables according to Houses, they often shared breakfast, lunch or dinner together.

She spent most of her free time with Ginny and Luna, but all of her classes with Malfoy and a handful of other students from their year (Dean Thomas, Terry Boot, Michael Corner, Hannah Abbot, Ernie Macmillan, Theodore Nott and Blaise Zabini). Most of her nights were spent in the library, studying intensely for the NEWTs. She noticed Malfoy was studying just as hard as her. " _He must probably get perfect NEWTs in order to get a decent job anywhere, with his family's reputation…Huh, at least he's willing to study and work for his position, unlike someone else I very well know."_ she thought back then.

They had to work together for half of their subjects, professors making them work together in order to achieve "interhouse unity". After turning in their first project (for which they both received O's), she couldn't really complain. He was very clever, always had an impressive and well-argued contribution, and was extremely resistant to exhaustion, just like her. After several projects, they started conversing about other things than their project at hand, as well.

They had much in common, to her utmost surprise: he liked Ancient Runes and Arithmancy just as much as she did, they enjoyed the same authors, and they both had a deep admiration for the History of Hogwarts, although they not-so-politely disagreed on their Founders' beliefs. He even surprised her by having read quite a few Muggle books and by making Quidditch seem interesting to her, by explaining her the use of Arithmancy and Charms in the process of making a fine broom.

They sometimes spent hours after finishing a project or essay discussing all these things, and she found him to be extremely pleasant company, their snappy arguments and spats included. They made her feel alive.

She realized he called her "Ace" when she made a smart remark or stated a random, little-known fact. Hermione found it to be the cute correspondence of Professor Snape's "insufferable know-it-all".

Weeks turned into months and she still kept a close eye on him, (though not as much because the Headmistress asked her to) without noticing anything suspicious in his behaviour or encounters. He stayed with his friends Theo Nott and Blaise Zabini most of the time, while sometimes she saw him holding hands or snuggling with a very pretty Slytherin girl from a smaller year whose name she was quite sure was Astoria Greengrass.

 _One night she was returning from the library back to the Gryffindor Tower when she heard shuffling noises and moans from behind some shelves. Knowing that only a 7_ _th_ _year could be allowed that late in the library she safely presumed it was Malfoy, and allowed herself to peek through the shelves._

 _Malfoy's back was turned to her and a slim, tanned leg was enclosing him around his hip. The girl was moaning in what seemed like pleasure, her face contorted and her eyes shut. She felt ashamed for having watched something so private but as Hermione was heading back to her dormitory, she couldn't shrug off the feeling that encompassed her. She felt extremely irritated at them. How could they use the library space for something so shallow? How could he be so superficial? She shouldn't care. She ought to just report them, and let him suffer the consequences. She shouldn't care. She needed some well-deserved sleep._

 _Next morning, in Arithmancy, she and Malfoy had to work on a numerological problem together. They were mostly silent, until:_

" _So tell me, Granger..." he trailed in a low voice. "What was The -how is it that they call you?- Brightest Witch of Her Age doing in the Library, peeking through some shelves at 2 am in the morning?" he asked, his face amused and his eyebrows raised. Hermione blushed the deepest shade of red possible, and tried to play it cool. "How is it my fault that you were snuggling in the Library, that late in the night? You're lucky I didn't report you, Malfoy." She snapped._

" _Oh, Ace, come on, don't be so stiff. I'm sure you and Weasel have done this… wait, no. I forgot Weasel's probably a eunuch. You need to find yourself a proper man, Granger." He snorted._

" _Why do_ _ **you**_ _care what men I'm with? And next time you insult Ron in any way, I'll hex your balls off, so you'll see what a eunuch really is!" she snapped angrily. Malfoy laughed. "Don't worry, I'm sure you'll see it for yourself before you get to hex anything off my body." He said, obviously amused by something she didn't understand. "WHAT are you talking about, Malfoy? I'm done talking to you, let's just finish this problem. Don't talk to me again!"_

" _Why do you always have to have something shoved up your arse?"_

" _I said, shut UP!" she screamed, several students turning to look in their direction._

" _Fine, Granger. But you'll remember my words, soon enough. Weasel's so far off your league he can't even apply for a place in it." he murmured, returning to their equation._

 _She wanted to retort, shout at him and give him arguments. But she just stood there, flabbergasted. Having Malfoy tell her_ _ **that,**_ _was dangerously close to a compliment._

They talked less and less in the last two months of school, as Hermione felt she would betray Ron by keeping this friendship (had it been that?) with him.

After graduating, she hadn't seen him at all until her first day of training to become and Investigator.

The first weeks had been very difficult. They didn't talk to each other, and when they did, insults were being thrown at one another.

It all came to a crashing halt when their training investigator sent them with a squad of Aurors to catch and take Augustus Rookwood along to interrogations. He and other five of his followers were hiding somewhere in Scotland when they caught them. They didn't give in without a fiercesome fight. Curses were flying everywhere, but Hermione could see Rookwood was mostly trying to get Malfoy. Their training investigator was severely wounded and they were outnumbered, Malfoy duelling Rookwood and one of his followers. Hermione had saved his life that day. He, in turn, had saved her life three times in the following months.

Ever since that day they caught Rookwood, Malfoy changed his approach towards her, only for the better. They had started communicating, brain storming together, catching an incredible number of twelve Death Eaters in one year. Their salaries were the biggest in the entire Ministry, bigger than the Minister's himself. The Malfoy name was still frowned upon in the Wizarding World, but Draco had slowly gained everyone's respects by leaving behind his purity beliefs, catching dark wizards with Hermione Granger and befriending Harry Potter. He had even gained Ginny's trust and sympathy, by helping Harry numerous times.

" _You saved my life in that bloody Room, Potter. I'm –most regrettably- indebted to your ugly scarhead, until I get to save_ your _worthless life. That will probably never happen, as you're The-Boy-Who-Wouldn't-Just-Fucking-Die, so that might take a while." He used to say whenever he helped Harry. Harry would laugh and pat him friendly on the back, saying "Whatever you say, Malfoy."_

She sometimes wondered if this wasn't, in fact, a deviously mastered plan that would get him in the Wizarding World's graces again, but her thoughts vanished when she saw the hate and disdain in his eyes when investigating or questioning his father's old friends.

They never talked about what happened at Hogwarts again.

"So, Hermione, did you find a dress?" Luna asked, breaking her chain of thoughts.

"Yes, Ginny convinced me to buy an extremely slutty red dress, just as she wished."

"I did not and it is no such thing!" Ginny replied exasperatingly. "You'll see, Luna, she looks perfectly decent and beautiful at the same time."

"Oh, I'm sure Ron will just love you in it.", she said, her eyes sparkling like they did every time she knew a lot more than she was letting on.

"Yes", she said, faking a smile, "I'm sure he will."

 **This chapter is longer, as I think all the next ones will be. I would really like to review and tell me your honest thoughts about this story, guys! Help me out! Lots of love!**


	5. Chapter 5, Purple flame

Chapter 5.

The next week passed without any noticeable events until Friday, when Harry had owled them a letter telling them they had been in Slovakia for five days and chasing Rabastan for two, without any luck. _"He has more men with him than we estimated. If we don't send another owl until Monday, I'll need you, Malfoy and Epson to join us. Don't worry, we'll be safe."_

"Why in the name of Godric would he make us wait until Monday?!" Hermione shrieked, infuriated beyond measure. "What if someone gets killed by then? Why does he always have to play hero?!"

"I'm pleased someone from Gryffindor finally agrees the Scarhead suffers from Hero Complex." Draco said, with sullenness in his voice.

"Are you daft, Malfoy? Of course we agree! Look at his progress through the years: Oh, I'm going to kill Voldemort, says the boy of eleven who hadn't even mastered a levitating spell. Look, I'm going to the Chamber of Secrets to defeat the Basilisk, says the boy of twelve who couldn't even write his Potions essay by himself. I'm going to kill Sirius Black, the only man who escaped Azkaban _without_ Voldemort's help, says a thirteen year old who couldn't even stun someone at that time! Ooooh, _I'm_ going to kill him when he returns, let's see what The-Boy-Who-Always-Bloody-Lives says then!" she cried, panting breathlessly.

Salazar, she could sometimes be so fiery. He'd never in his life seen a woman (well, maybe save for his aunt) so passionate about the things she cared: her friends, her family, her job, her knowledge.

"Merlin, Granger, chill, you're such a nuisance. They'll be fine. We'll go there tomorrow without waiting for their owl and sort this out for good. How does that sound?"

She looked at him with her doe-like, hazel eyes. They were clearly worried and anxious before, frowning, really, but the second they gazed into his, they melted. She smiled, probably unintentionally, he thought. Her brows were still furrowed, but in a more "how cute of him" way than before. It was a look he'd seen her give Weasley or Potter numerous times before. That fact made him uncomfortable, say the least.

"Draco..." she trailed, her voice shaky, but then regrouped and said: "You're right. We'll go anyway. I'll go talk to the Slovakian Minister. See you tomorrow." She said, and left without giving him another look.

He remained in their office, pondering. Going to Slovakia was the last thing he wanted right now. He had his parents to deal with after his break up from Astoria. They would probably try to convince him for months to come to get back together with her. That would, of course, never happen. He was tired of dim bimbos. And Astoria was just that: a bimbo, one of the prettiest out there, but needy, predictable, and extremely high maintenance. He was done dating his mother's recommendations. He would pick his own women from now on, and as far from his mother's expectations as possible.

Then he had plans with Pansy, Blaise and Goyle for the weekend, which he would have to put off. His thoughts were interrupted by someone entering the room. Weasley. He scanned the room once, before talking.

"I thought Hermione was here." He said, his face obviously irritated.

"Look again; maybe she's hiding under my desk. From you." He said, mockingly. Oh, how he enjoyed torturing the Weasel. Seeing his temple vein bulging and his face getting redder than his thinning hair was one of the most satisfying things he could imagine. From all the members of the Golden Trio, Weasley was the only one who still hated him with all his being. The feeling was mutual.

"Sod off, ferret. Where is she?" he asked, fists clenched. Just like in school. Salazar, this boy hasn't changed one inch since Hogwarts. No wonder Granger was always so tense and irritated when she came to work.

"Do I look like I know or care? Not here, obviously." He responded disinterestedly. Weasley turned around and left without another word.

" 'Mione! I've been looking all over the place for you!" Ron shouted, running in her direction.

"Why? I had business to attend to, but now I'm done, let's head home." She said, wearily, taking his hand.

"I was hoping to have a word with you. What have you been up to?"

"Harry sent a letter saying they have been chasing Rabastan for two days, and that he has more men with him than we expected. Epson, Malfoy and I will be heading there tomorrow." She answered.

"Is it that bad that they need you to go?!" he asked worriedly.

"Harry said to wait until Monday and only go if we don't receive another owl, but I'll be damned if I let his impulsiveness and imprudent bravery hurt anyone or stand in the way of catching both Lestranges. " she said, with a very serious look on her face.

"Aren't you the brains and backbone of this whole Department?" he asked, laughing.

"How is this funny, Ronald?" she turned to him and poked a finger at his chest.

"Fine, you're not in the mood for jokes. I've been meaning to talk to you about something." He said, his face straightening.

She wanted to ask him when was she ever in the mood for _his_ unsalted jokes but refrained from it. Apparently he had something serious he wanted to discuss with her, too. It could wait.

"Not now, Ron. I am quite tired and I want to go home and rest for tomorrow."

"I…It's important, Hermione." He said, frowning.

"It's can't be more important than our best friend being in danger, can it? I'm sure it can wait." She said, rubbing her eyes.

"Fine. I'm going to the Burrow for the weekend, anyways. I'll see you when you return. Stay safe, 'Mione" he said, leaning in and kissing her forehead, leaving her puzzled.

The next morning, she arrived at the Ministry after a night of tossing and turning in her bed. She only managed to fall asleep at the crack of dawn. She had opted for a casual outfit today, suitable for travelling – a pair of blue jeans, white Converse high tops and a white, short sleeved shirt. Her hair, as always when coming to work, was knotted into a high, messy bun. She entered the bureau half-heartedly.

Malfoy was already sitting at his table checking his watch (an entirely different watch, still exquisite). On his table stood an old rusty lighter.

"Morning, Ace." He said, raising his face to look at her. He didn't seem to have slept too much, either. Her stomach, already uncomfortable and fluttering from the lack of sleep, jolted somewhere into her chest. She cleared her throat, having trouble maintaining eye contact with him, and asked:

"Hey. Is that our Portkey?"

"Yeah. It activates at 9 am sharp. It's 8:40 now." He replied casually.

"The Slovakian Aurors said they would lead us from the Apparition point to the place where Dean, Harry and Robards are settled. Where's Epson?"

"He's not coming. He owled me this morning."

"Oh my God! Isn't anyone here at least a bit professional or prepared? Why? Oh, the things I'll change around here when I'm a higher up in this Department. Just wait and see!" she said through gritted teeth, slamming her fist on his table.

As much as it wasn't the time or the place, Draco couldn't help but admire Granger's drive and passion. The years of war and fighting and torture, being mocked and disregarded because of her Blood Status, had turned her into a veritable lioness. Her hair, although tied down, was all over her face and around it, like a chestnut and honey halo. Her lips were pouted and her eyes slightly narrowed, reminding him of that day she had slapped him, in 3rd year. Only, this time, she looked a whole lot more attractive.

Age had certainly been generous to her: Her hair had changed completely since the mess she had three years ago: It was sleeker, of a lighter shade and glossier. Her teeth bore no resemblance to the ones she used to have as a teenager. Her skin was without any imperfections, smooth and just a tad tanned. And her eyes, her hazel eyes hold honesty and goodness in them that he hasn't seen in anyone else's before. She wasn't the straightforward, ice-cool beauty all the purebloods he had dated held. All her face held an angelic beauty that was unknown to him before.

Also, she didn't look like she hadn't been fed in months (something he truly disliked in Astoria). Granger wasn't hiding behind saggy outfits anymore. Her body filled her clothes in a curvy, feminine way. This sent a message of fertility and lushness to his male subconscious, one that Draco was not aware as of yet. How she could love the Weasel, he had no idea. She really was unlike any other woman he had ever taken interest in. In the best way possible.

"Malfoy, what in Godric's name are you daydreaming about? Get a grip on yourself, you're the only capable person I can count on around here." She demanded, her eyes inquisitive. He ran a hand through his hair and replied: "The Portkey activates in exactly one minute. Get your ass over here, Granger, and stop ranting." She raised an eyebrow at him, but joined him nevertheless, sitting on his desk. Malfoy had his hand wrapped around the old lighter, not leaving much room for Hermione's hand. He seemed to read her thoughts, opening his palm and giving her access to it. She pressed her right palm against his left one, the much smaller lighter between them. His hand was soft and warm, and the moment they touched, their eyes intertwined too. She relaxed under his hypnotizing gaze, not long before she felt the pull behind her navel, as they both disappeared.

They arrived at the Slovakian Ministry in Bratislava, only to be immediately Apparated by an Auror near a cabin in a forest. They had no time to waste. The Auror told them this was the cabin Harry and the other two had stayed before setting off into the mountains. He showed them the general direction of their searching and left.

They disillusioned themselves and headed in that direction, Malfoy murmuring charms and counter-curses under his breath every time they changed course: "Subsisto appareo. Homenum Revelio. Deprehensio Committo. Specialis Revelio. Voluntas Dissimulo". They also had a handful of potions on them: a Wound-Healing potion, Veritaserum, and Essence of Murtlap. Hermione and Draco searched every tree hollow, every rock and every hut they could reach in the hours of daylight available. They didn't find anything or anyone.

That evening they returned to the cabin to find Harry, Dean and Robards injured and exhausted. Hermione used the potions she carried with her on their wounds, scolding them for hours for their "negligence, immaturity and useless hero complexes. "

"We duelled two of Rodolphus' followers. We couldn't get a hold on them so we had to use the killing curse on both… Last night we found a place further south that had certainly been inhabited, perhaps a few hours before. A boy's corpse was also lying around, with signs of torture all over his body." Harry had told them that night.

The next day, one of Malfoy's detecting charms revealed a disillusioned man who had probably been following them since that morning. They used Veritaserum on him.

He had, under the potion's influence, revealed his name (Etienne Delacroix), his mission (following and confusing them into going on different tracks then the ones intended), the fact that both Lestrange brothers were using a Fidelius Charm for their location, and that their Secret Keeper had been one of the men Harry had duelled and killed days ago. Delacroix was consequently a Secret Keeper himself, so the job of finding Rodolphus' location had been harder, as they had to make the man tell them the secret willingly. Under Malfoy's threat of a lifetime in Azkaban, Delacroix sang the truth like a canary.

They had no time to lose, so they headed for the designated place, but not before sending the French guy to the Ministry with Dean. Their destination was a cave deep in the mountains where the Lestrange brothers were apparently hidden.

They found the cave opening and descended the steep passage that probably led into the cave, all of them under disillusionment and silence charms. The slope came to an abrupt stop and they found themselves in a vast cavern with a high ceiling, hundreds of stalagmites and stalactites, tunnels and passageways intertwining in every corner of the cave. There was no sound (not even their footfalls, thanks to their silencing charm), except droplets of water falling from the ceiling into small puddles of water that were swamping the floor from place to place. The air was humid and heavy, and the temperature couldn't have been higher than 10 degrees Celsius. It was also very dark, the only source of light being the one from Harry's wand tip. Everything made that place eerie.

They all had their wands at ready; Hermione was walking right beside Malfoy, her left hand holding on to his right arm. (Her wand hand was the right one, whilst his was the left.) It was a habit she'd acquired in the last year while on missions with him, and it comforted her like nothing else. They went through a larger passageway that led even deeper into the cave, the large area being, at least apparently, deserted. Malfoy started whispering counter-curses and detecting charms. "Deprehensio Committo", he murmured.

Several things happened at the same time. A dark, slender figure appeared from one of the dim corners of the passageway, slowly followed by five others, all of them sending curses both verbally and non-verbally everywhere. Malfoy tensed under Hermione's grip, a Stealth Sensoring Spell hitting him and breaking his Disillusionment one. Rodolphus and Rabastan Lestrange both grinned at him, the first one sending what looked like a purple flame towards where they were located, missing Hermione by a quarter of an inch, but hitting Malfoy in his right shoulder. He hunched, his face contorted in pain, and then fell on the cave's floor without a sound.


	6. Chapter 6, Pygmalion and Galatea

Chapter 6.

A tearing pain starting in his right shoulder and radiating outwards to his chest woke him up from his deep slumber. He scowled, putting his hand on its source. There was no wound, no scar, not any sign of damage at all, really. But the pain, oh the pain. It was staggering. He gritted his teeth, not wanting to scream or seem weak in any way, and opened his eyes. Draco was lying in a bed, the only one from a small, dimly lit room. It had simple white walls and no windows. He was probably in St Mungo's. Great. He turned around to look for his wand, the pain intensifying by a hundred times. He winced and exhaled loudly, only then noticing the person sitting on his left, asleep in a chair.

Granger. What was she doing here? Did she always have to tend the hurt, feed the poor and hug the lonely? It was an extremely annoying feature of hers. She made a little sleeping sound and shifted in her chair, smiling in her sleep. He looked closer at her: She looked like she'd been crying, and quite a lot. Her skin was translucent, and she had faint shadows under her eyes. A book was open in her lap – "Pygmalion and Galatea"-, but he didn't recognize the author or the title. Another slicing jolt of pain cut through his right torso, Draco no longer being able to refrain from screaming. He let out a load gasp, collapsing back on his pillow. Granger suddenly opened her eyes, looking directly in his direction, with a worried look on her face.

"Draco! Don't move, it will only make it so much worse." She said quietly, rising from her chair and reaching for him.

"What h-happened, Granger?" he asked, confused. She moved uncomfortably.

"Well, what do you remember last of all?" she asked hesitantly. He focused, trying to remember how he got to St Mungo's, but he only thing he could remember was the cave, the Lestrange brothers appearing from a corner and a curse hitting him. A curse he's only seen once before…

"Being h-hit by Dolohov's curse. Was he t-there?" Draco asked with some difficulty.

"No. But he apparently spread the love and knowledge to others as well. " she said, attempting a smile.

"I'm…I have no idea what that curse does. I've seen Dolohov use it once, but that person died almost straightaway." Draco said. Granger's eyes filled with tears in almost an instant. She held them back, nevertheless, cleared her throat once and said:

"Well, you're most certainly _not_ dead." He looked at her, failing to understand the emotion in her eyes and every movement. She was clearly tense and uncomfortable. "We caught them. Both Lestranges and the five others. One of them we had to kill, however. Robards is severely injured, maybe worse than you." She said, her eyes fixed on the floor, looking like she was withholding from crying. "Draco… I'm… so sorry I couldn't do more. I feel like I let you down, like I should've done more. I hate myself." She admitted, a few tears leaking from her eyes.

"Granger. Are you s-serious? What could…" he lagged, but then went on. "Have you done differently? Jump in front of me? I'm not Potter or Weasley; I don't need you sacrificing your precious life for me." He replied, his irritation escalating.

"You know very well that I would jump in front of you just as much as I would in front of them, Malfoy!" she shouted, more tears falling down her cheeks. She was downright mad now, her breathing uneven and her fists clenched. He simply looked at her, his anger dissipating, not wanting his astonishment revealed. She cared for him just as she cared for the Scarhead of the Weasel. Well, maybe she felt different things for the Weasel in addition to him or Potter, but he hadn't seen her displaying them, not even once.

The awkward silence that followed her confession was broken by a Healer who entered his room. He was carrying eight different potions on a silver tray.

"Oh, excellent, you woke up. My name is Niklas Faust, and I'm your attending Healer. How's your pain, on a scale from 1 to 10?" the Healer asked.

"A constant 8, with spikes of you-can't-even-count-to-that-much." He said, holding his shoulder with a hand, and clutching the bedside with another. Hermione instantly placed a hand on his arm, her face anxious.

"I see. Well, I'm here to serve you your cocktail, mister Malfoy. The one that saved you and kept you alive for the last three days."

"I've been out for three days?" Draco demanded.

"Yes, three long, agonizing days for your body. Unfortunately the curse that hit you three days ago and, from what I understand, Miss Granger here as well, four years ago, is not known to us. We don't really have a counter-curse, or a specific antidote to it, but with a mix of extremely powerful healing potions we managed to rejuvenate you. A few more days, and you'll be quite as good as new." Draco listened to the Healer, something he particularly said having caught his attention, however.

Granger had been cursed with exact the same brutal, horrible jinx. And she had escaped as well. Another surge of pain shot through his body, and he lost his concentration. His whole body began shaking and beads of sweat were appearing on his forehead.

"Time to take your potions, Mr Malfoy, or you'll really get to sense that number you say I can't count to, in pain." The Healer said, opening the potion bottles in turn, and pouring them down his throat. They each tasted an individual kind of disgusting. He recognized six out of the eight potions by taste, colour or smell. He took them without a word, nonetheless. Hermione watched him with a look on her face that told him she'd drink them as well, if only it would make him feel better. He felt a jolt of deep sympathy for his partner that moment.

"I also incorporated a Dreamless Sleep Potion in there, so he'll be a little drowsy and confused for a few minutes before he'll… I'm sorry, Healer habit." The Healer added midsentence, smiling politely. "I'm sure you both know the effects and adverse reactions of this concoction. I'll return tonight to do a few tests and give him his night dose, but you can fetch me if you need anything." The Healer said before turning on his heels and exiting the room.

They both sat in silence before Draco spoke.

"So you've experienced this inferno as well?" he asked, the pain starting to dissipate.

She didn't answer at first, watching him with those doe-like eyes of hers, eyes that were still swimming in tears. Draco realized now that her tears were associated with her past experience, and not with his current state. He didn't know how to feel about that realization.

"Yes, 5th year. Dolohov hit me with it, not before I cast a silencing spell on him. It was in a room in the Department of Mysteries." She said, with caution in her voice. He knew very well why she was cautious. She didn't need to tell him further. It was his father whom she and her friends had fought that night. It was his father who was sent to Azkaban after that very incident. Nevertheless, she reached for his hand and took it in hers, emotion still visible on every feature of her face.

"I…I really understand how terrible you must feel. I…" she trailed, but then stopped and moaned. He looked at her, but couldn't understand what she was on about. "For a few hours, I thought you were going to die. You fell, but I couldn't focus on you, they were surrounding us. We were three against seven. I had to fight. I'm _so_ sorry!" she continued, sobbing genuinely now.

"Granger, what are you on about? Of course you bloody left me, you had a job to do! Potter and Robards needed you more than I did."

"No! They didn't. You are my partner, you needed me the most. I thought I lost you!" She said, still weeping.

"I'm alive. The Healer says I'll even be fine soon. Stop blaming yourself for doing the bloody right thing. If I did die however, I would've remained behind to haunt you for the rest of your life, don't fret." She let out a yelp, hitting his unharmed arm, jokingly. "But I'm here, my hand in yours, I'll be bloody fine! And we're almost finished with those sodding Death Eaters. Stop crying your eyes out, Ace." Draco said, his eyes fixed upon her.

With those words she finally relaxed, her eyes full of comprehension and something else he couldn't quite put his finger on. Then, she did something she hadn't before, not once: she enclosed her arms around his neck and hugged him tightly. Her body was warm, and he could feel her heart racing against his own, at a fast pace. Her wet cheeks were resting on his pain-free shoulder, her cool, fast breathing hitting the side of his neck, sending electric shocks throughout his whole body and making his heart beat rapidly in his chest. He stiffened under her, at first, but then relaxed and hugged her back, with only his left arm around her small waist. He tried to focus on the sensation of her against him so he could absorb it, remember it. He inhaled the faintly sweet smell that was being emitted from her hair and let it fill his lungs. It was painful and divine at the same time. She exhaled loudly (in contentment?) when he did so, and Draco could swear that he hadn't felt more at peace, more contented, than he felt now, with Hermione Granger in his arms…well, arm. He was beginning to feel drowsy.

She recoiled from their embrace, her cheeks rosy and her eyes still red from crying, looking embarrassed. Salazar, she was so innocent, even after all she had suffered…

"Your mother was here on Monday. She came with your girlfriend. Blaise, Parkinson and Goyle were here too, yesterday. They all send you their best wishes." She said, her eyes fixed on the floor yet again. He was curious on how his mother had treated her, but instead he chose to focus on another topic from her statement.

"Which girlfriend, Granger? I have dozens of them…Keep up, won't you?" he said, smirking. She shot him a sharp look, and then said "I don't know which one, Malfoy. It was probably the one you used to shag in Hogwarts. They all look the same to me." Draco managed a laugh. "I completely agree, Ace. They really are like peas in a pod." She snorted and returned to her chair, retaking her lecture.

"What's that book?" he asked.

"Oh, it's "Pygmalion and Galatea". It's Greek, mythology. I read to you from it while you were asleep." She said, blushing. He didn't respond.

"Why are you here, Granger?" Draco asked sleepily, after a longer pause.

"You're my partner. I need to make sure you're well for the interrogation we'll both lead on Friday." She replied automatically, like she had prepared that sentence beforehand. Her eyes never left the book she was supposedly reading.

"You can make sure I'm well by checking once in a while on me, or better, sending someone to check in on me. How long have you been here?" he demanded, struggling with the drowsiness that was starting to cloud his senses. She didn't respond. She kept on reading her damned book, with a frown on her face.

"Answer me, Granger!"

"Fine. I've been here since Monday morning when they let me in to see you." She replied, as casually as she could manage, not looking in his direction.

"Why?" he simply asked.

"I told you why, I need…" she trailed, but he interrupted her.

"What does the Weasel think of this? Huh?" he asked, challengingly. She remained silent, once more, this time returning his gaze. She stared into his eyes, with a soft, gentle look, for what seemed like hours, until a peaceful, dreamless slumber took him away.

* * *

"How is he?" Harry asked her, looking slightly worried. She felt a rush of contentment through her body at the thought Harry was worried about her partner. She had wanted them to become friends ever since they started working together.

She watched with interest how their relationship developed, ever since the war. Harry had easily gotten over the hate he felt for Malfoy after they all found out what he had been going through. They made peace the moment they realised they'd have to work together. They started admiring one another after solving cases together. They started a thing dangerously close to friendship after the numerous Ministry parties and gatherings in which they talked and found they had much in common. Harry had started to trust and really care for Malfoy after he had helped him on several occasions in his missions.

The waiting room of fourth floor of St Mungo's Hospital for Magical Maladies and Injuries was quite crowded. Patients and relatives were buying coffee, talking among themselves or with Healers. Hermione was tired and famished, but above all she was relieved. Malfoy had woken up, talked, moved, and even made jokes. And hugged her back.

It had been the most intense hug Hermione had ever experienced. Her initial intention had been to soothe and calm him (and perhaps herself, too), to feel his body alive against hers. It had turned into something else, though. The moment he relaxed into her embrace, heat and electricity rushed through her body, covering her skin in goose bumps then mingling somewhere in her lower abdomen. She didn't know what to make of it, never having felt something so intense before. She pushed that thought aside for now, having more important matters at hand.

"He's fine, asleep right now. In a lot of pain when he wakes up, but it keeps diminishing." She said, wearily. She hadn't slept in her bed in four days, only going home to shower, eat and take a new book for her to read.

"You should go home, Hermione. He's woken up, he won't stay in a coma as you feared he would, there's nothing left to worry about. Plus, you really need to talk to Ron." he said with a serious look on his face. Hermione looked at him inquiringly, wondering what and how much Harry knew exactly.

She smiled at him. "You're right. I guess I'm leaving, then." Hermione concluded.

Apparating near her house she entered it, reluctantly. She didn't know whether Ron was there or not. She passed the hallway and headed for the bathroom, intending to take a shower, when she saw Ron sitting at the kitchen table, a glass of Firewhiskey in his hand, a look of utter hatred on his face. His eyes were narrowed and his expression sour. His eyes were fixed on something on the table: a small, black velvet box.

"Look who's h-h-home!" He said, not taking his eyes from the small box. Hermione remained unmoving in the doorway, not venturing to speak.

"My lovely, sooolovely bitch of a girlfriend, whom I was about to p-p-propose to! Just a feeew days ago." He said incoherently. He was drunk. And Hermione knew there was no reasoning with him while he was in that state.

"Ronald, I'm going to take a shower. We'll talk tomorrow, when you're more clear-headed." She said, as neutrally as she could manage. She was beyond caring, anyhow. She had come home to a drunken Ron so many nights before, that she had developed some sort of resistance to it, to him.

"You're not goin' anywhere! Weeee are discussing this, 'n' right now!" he said, angry all of a sudden, rising from the chair, making a reach for her but staggering on his feet. "I have three things to tell you, 'Mione! Three" he said, showing her three fingers "very, veeery important things."

She shifted uncomfortably, but remained rooted to the place, determined to listen to him and then bolt.

"One. "He said, letting one of the fingers down. "You _will_ found yourself 'nother playmmmate. Nooo more Malfoy 'n our lives, I'm done with him! I'm d-done with his smirk, with his bloody friendship with 'Arry. Fuck! I h-h-hate that m-motherfucking ferret! H-how can h-he be so arrogant, and rich, and powerful, and good at h-his job, and h-have your admiration as well?! Fucking 'ell, 's not fair!"

"Rona…" she trailed.

"Two." He continued, letting another finger down. "We'll mmmove out of this shitass townhhhouse! We'll find a place near my parents, where I can ppplay some Goddamned Quidditch and be close to my family!" he managed. She let him talk, holding her ground.

"And thhhhree," he lowered his last finger, "I've resigned from my position as a bloody Auror. I h-have some money gathered, and wwhen I'm out, I'll g-g-go work for George's shop." He finished. He fell back on his chair, taking a sip from his drink. "H-h-have you n-nothing to say?" he demanded. Oh, she had plenty to say. But was it worth spilling her real thoughts on a drunken Ron? She settled for yes.

"To your number one, Ronald, I don't have much to say. As both Malfoy and I have been offered positions in the Council of Magical Law by Minister Shacklebolt, he will no longer be my "playmate", but my colleague and very good friend, starting this autumn." She said.

"To your number two, I say Bon Voyage! I'm staying here, nevertheless, and alone. I'll help you pack your things as of tomorrow morning when you're more... capable." He looked at her with a confused look on his face. "'Mione…b-but I want you to come w-with meee." He stammered.

"I don't even know what to say to number three. That I'm awfully disappointed? That I know you were an average Auror, but that I hoped and prayed you would struggle to become more? It's all true. But as a friend, and nothing more. Because I could never love a man who is as lacking of drive and unmotivated as you are, Ronald. I couldn't marry him; I couldn't bear him to be the father of my children. I think I did love you once. But all I've been feeling towards you for _a lot_ of time has been pity, remorse, with tiny flickers of hope that you would come to your senses and become the man I so desperately wanted you to be. I don't, anymore." She said, firmly.

He looked at her as though expecting her to tell him it had all been a joke. She didn't, though. She felt sorry for him, watching his face shift from surprise, to realisation, then to anger, and finally to acceptance. He should've been expecting this, after months of discussions, ultimatums and drifting further and further apart from each other. He started gibbering, trying to articulate a coherent sentence, and then finally managed to say:

"Man, I-I…fucking screwed up badly, didn't I? I'm so sorry, 'Mione, so sorry I can't be the man you need. Merlin knows, you're too good for me… I really h-hope that one day I'll become that man you wanted, I j-just…I h-hope it won't be t-too late." He said, then added "And d-don't w-worry, I'll take all my things t-tomorrow."

"No, Ronald, you're so wrong. Don't hope for that. Have confidence that you will find peace with yourself, that you will no longer be unhappy and frustrated with everything and everyone around you, and hope that you'll find a woman who is right for you." She said. She went on and hugged him briefly. "I'm exhausted, and I'll go take a shower. Good night." She said, throwing him a final look, before heading for the bathroom.

 **Hey guys, I really hope you enjoy this! I would really like to read your honest opinions, so please review, it would make me very, very happy!**


	7. Chapter 7, Gold and Red

**marzipan4** **, don't worry, Ron won't give up without a fight. I considered some violence, too, but decided it was not the time or place. renatafbarros, Thanks a lot, and I really was planning on making them longer. SeptemberOwl835 Thank you!**

 **Hope you all enjoy this chapter. Love & Please review!**

Chapter 7.

"I'm sorry if you're disappointed, Ginny, but I had to do it." Hermione said while manoeuvring her wand with her right hand. They were putting up the marquee for tomorrow's wedding, and the act required more than a few "Wingardium Leviosa".

"Don't worry, it's him I'm mad at. I reckoned you would put an end to it when he resigned, but couldn't he wait until after the wedding, for Merlin's sake? It would've been more tactful." Ginny said, adding another piece to the marquee.

"You can't really expect your brother to be tactful." Hermione concluded. She added the last piece of the tent, finally observing the whole thing. It looked really lovely. They'll have to add an Undetectable Extension Charm to it, as its real dimensions couldn't accommodate all of the four hundred guests.

It was another incredibly hot Friday at the Burrow, and the Weasleys had a lot more preparations to attend to before the event. Hermione helped them with setting the tent, the tables, and the decorations. Everything was red and gold, of course. Hermione tried to convince Ginny to give up the silly idea of making the Gryffindor House colours their own wedding's ones, but to no avail. The tent was beige but shone like gold in the blazing sun. The tablecloths were all red. The centrepieces consisted of red roses intertwined with golden cherry blossoms. The ribbons covering the tent's pillars were golden, as were the lampions hanging from the tent's ceiling and the chairs.

A long, red carpet would lead the guests from the entrance of the marquee to the bride's and groom's table that stood on a platform at the opposite end of the tent. Hermione thought everything would look tacky, but after they finished putting up all the decorations, she found the setting quite charming. Outside, butterflies and bees were humming over the forget-me-not flower covered grass. The seating chart stood on a golden support at the marquee's entrance, near a grand fountain that had a life size statue of Lupin, Tonks, Mad-Eye Moody, Fred, Sirius, Dobby, Snape and Dumbledore, standing tall in the back. Water was sprinkling from the tips of their wands and from Dobby's pointy ears.

This had been Harry's idea, as a reminder that those who sacrificed themselves in the war would never be forgotten and that he could have never managed to win or still be alive, without their support and courage. Hermione looked at the statue and couldn't manage to withhold a few tears. She added a few safety charms around the tent for good measure (old habits die hard) and went inside the house.

"Oh, Hermione my dear. Thank you so much for helping us. Merlin knows we needed extra hands organizing this gigantic event. Will you stay for lunch, dear?" Molly Weasley asked her in her usual motherly manner.

"No, Mrs Weasley, thank you very much, I'm sure you have a lot on your hands. " Hermione said.

"Nonsense, sweetheart! I hardly had to do a thing. Ginny insisted on hiring caterers for the food and the boys took care of everything else: music, flowers, and drinks. I was quite left out on this one." She said, a little bitterly.

"I'm sure Harry and Ginny just wanted you to relax and enjoy watching your only daughter get married to Harry Potter." She said, and they both laughed. Mrs Weasley's face then turned serious.

"I'm so sorry for you and Ronald, my dear. I hope you will resolve your problems soon. He's devastated, you know. " Hermione didn't want to discuss her problems with Ron with Mrs Weasley, much less start telling her about what a moron her son had been and how she had been devastated for two years because of _him_. She simply smiled and asked: "Do you know where Harry is, Mrs Weasley? I have some things to discuss with him."

"Oh, I'm sure he's at the Ministry, dear. Won't be coming until tonight, I reckon." Mrs Weasley answered politely.

"Thank you, Mrs Weasley, I think I'll be heading to the Ministry as well. Malfoy and I have the Lestrange's interrogation today."

"Yes! How is the poor boy feeling? Is he capable of leading an interrogation when only a few days ago he was bedridden?" she asked sympathetically.

"He's a lot better. Still has to take a couple of daily potions, but the pain has subsided. I trust he will attend the wedding tomorrow." She said smiling. "May I use your floo, Mrs Weasley?" Hermione asked.

"Of course dear. I'll see you tomorrow. Try to have a good night's sleep, it will be a long, tiring day." Hermione nodded, taking a handful of floo powder and stepping into the fireplace. "Ministry of Magic!" Hermione cried, throwing the powder into the flames.

Two long hours later, Hermione found herself sitting in a small, dark room, with Malfoy, a scribe, a couple of Hit Wizards and Rabastan Lestrange. She had interrogated Rodolphus with Draco interfering now and again, and now he was questioning his brother. Both Lestrange brothers were moderately sleep deprived, a susceptibility increasing method used by both muggle and magical questionings but most importantly, they were under the influence of Veritaserum. Oh, how she loved Magic.

"Where is Antonin Dolohov?" Malfoy demanded, his smooth features contorting in hate and disdain.

"Antonin Dolohov is in London." Rabastan Lestrange answered automatically. His face was blank and devoid of any emotion, thanks to the potion.

"What means of concealment is he using?" Draco asked nervousness only visible in his eyes. Hermione was sure that to a person who didn't know him, Malfoy would seem poised and composed that moment. But she knew him so well (or at least that's what she thought) that she could easily recognize the spark he had in his eyes each time he discovered an essential information or had a breakthrough.

"Polyjuice potion." Rabastan answered in the same monotonous manner.

"Who is he disguising as?" Draco asked.

"A man called Hyperion Epson." Lestrange answered. If Draco had been surprised, he showed no sign of it, but continued questioning, as the potion's effect would soon start to wear off.

"Why is he disguised as Epson?" Draco went on to ask.

"He had wanted to infiltrate the Department of Magical Law Enforcement using Legilimency on Draco Malfoy and the Imperius Curse on Neville Longbottom. He couldn't get any information from the Malfoy as he is a good Occlumens, but he managed to get Longbottom under the Imperius Curse for a few days." He answered blankly.

"Where is the real Epson now?" Draco asked.

"At his home. Dead." He responded. Draco finally let out a loud sigh. Hermione intervened.

"Is Dolohov still using his appearance?" she asked.

"Yes. He's considering going to Harry Potter and Ginny Weasley's wedding." He simply stated.

Draco turned to the two Hit Wizards in the room. "Get him back in his provisional cell and get a squad to Epson's house." The Hit Wizard nodded, took Rabastan by his arm and left the room with the scribe and the other Hit Wizard. Hermione and Draco remained in silence for a few minutes before she spoke.

"I can't believe Dolohov's been under our noses for so long…"

"Yeah, I know… I noticed Epson looking deep into my eyes countless times, but I just thought that's how he communicates, with deep eye contact or that he just likes my eyes." He said, smiling wryly. "Anyway, Occlumency is something I've been taught since I was 14. My aunt and Snape wanted my thoughts protected from Voldemort. I've used it so often and for so long that it's more like a habit, really." Draco said, running a hand through his sandy blond hair.

Hermione knew that Draco would have never given out such intimate details of his past unless he knew they'd be important for them working together as well as possible. That thought made her rather sad. She felt the urge to go next to him and comfort him, hug him…

"Draco, there's something I wanted to talk to you about." She said, instead.

He raised his grey eyes upon her face, an eyebrow raised. Every spot of her skin that was touched by his gaze was ablaze. She had to remain rational, nevertheless.

"I know you got a position in the Council of Magical Law, just as I have. Shacklebolt says we've both had enough adventure for a few lifetimes, I, however, would like to remain an investigator until we catch Dolohov. Then we can both take some looong vacations and return in the cosy positions as judges or interrogators for The Council."

Draco's eyes remained fixed upon her, but a smirk was starting to appear on his handsome features.

"You don't trust anyone else to do our jobs, do you Ace?" She blushed, but remained firm.

"No, not at all, actually."

"It's funny. I was sure you'd take the first opportunity to fly from being Investigator and Draco Malfoy's partner and run off to do your fighting for the rights of house elves and what not." He said mockingly.

Hermione felt offended, but went on. "Funny you should say that. I actually think being an investigator with you was the most intellectually challenging and interesting thing I have done since trying to brew a Polyjuice Potion in Moaning Myrtle's bathroom, in 2nd year!" she replied, annoyed. Draco didn't try to hide his surprise.

"Why were you trying to brew a Polyjuice Potion in Moaning Myrtle's bathroom in 2nd year?"

"Another story for another time, Malfoy. Tell me what you think." Draco put his serious face on again, and appeared to be lost in thougt.

"I actually thought of the same thing, just never thought you'd be up for it. Apparently you enjoy my presence way more than I assumed." He smirked. Hermione rolled her eyes while heading for the door.

"I'm going home. It's been a long day and I need to rest for tomorrow."

"Yeah, I'm heading out too." Draco said, taking a pair of what looked like car keys and a golden locket with a black and red horse on it. "Want a ride?"

If someone had asked Hermione what was the least likely question ever to be asked, Draco Malfoy inviting her for 'a ride' in his Porsche would definitely have made top three.

"Have you-? Can you-? Are those -?" she stammered. Draco was watching her, amused beyond measure. He has successfully rendered Hermione Granger speechless.

"Do you even have a _real_ driver's license?" She finally demanded, crossing her arms.

"No, I'm driving a powerful SUV without having any idea on how to handle it." Draco said, rolling his eyes.

"Why aren't you Apparating?" Hermione demanded.

"The Healers forbade me to Apparate, Floo or fly the next few days" he said, still smiling.

"So you're travelling by car? A _Porsche,_ above all?"

"I happen to really like some Muggle contraptions, like cars. They're well designed and quite efficient for a thing devoid of magic. " She looked at him in wonder, wondering what other unbelievable thing he would say next.

"So are you coming or not?" Hermione had to admit she was extremely curious. She nodded, following him out the door, to the elevators and then to the telephone booth in the Atrium. They would have to use the visitors' entrance.

She entered it, Draco holding the door open for her (He really did have better manners than any young man she has ever met. She guessed pure blood families' traditions were good at _something_. She found herself wondering if he could play the piano or how well he danced …). He entered the booth right after her, while she picked up the receiver and dialled 62442.

The cool female voice spoke, and the telephone booth started its ascent. It was a lot smaller than Hermione remembered, as her and Draco's bodies were so closely pressed together. Heat radiated from his body, making her face and neck flush. She could smell his rich, leathery scent (she didn't know whether it was his cologne or just… him) and could hear his shallow, uneven breaths.

An unnatural urge surged through her body that moment: she wanted, needed to run her hands through every inch of his baby-fine blond hair, look into his cold grey eyes like she would gaze into the whole universe and touch his delicate skin and fleshy lips with her fingertips. The impulse was so strong that she had to hide both her hands behind her back and clench her fingers, her nails digging into her flesh and leaving marks.

He looked confusedly at her as she was desperately trying to refrain from touching him; and that was when she lost control: she had to do _something_. She extended an arm and caressed the anterior surface of his hair: from his hairline to its tips. It felt divine under her touch and she was suddenly afraid she would never get enough of it. He was still regarding her confusedly, but his lips parted as his face slowly softened. She could swear that for a moment, he seemed to close his eyes and lean into her touch, but it all ended suddenly when light flooded the booth, as they were resurfacing. He exhaled loudly as she withdrew her hand from his locks when the telephone booth door opened and they were enclosed by the hot, damp air once again.

 **Guys, sorry for the shorter chapter, but next one will be a major one, trust me! I want to take a moment to thank NiceButNaughtyAngel, who's been an incredible help in writing these chapters and I hope will be from now on, too! Thanks a lot, you're awesome!**

 **Love & Please Review!**


	8. Chapter 8, Dream is Destiny

Chapter 8.

 **Hey guys! For the scene of Draco and Hermione's dance, I strongly recommend this song, as it's the one I was listening to whilst writing it.**

 **No Clear Mind - Dream is Destiny**

A cool breeze was rustling the leaves in the old willow tree near the Burrow. It was extremely welcome, as it was a scorching day of 31st July. The place was vibrating with anticipation for the grand event that was about to take place: Harry Potter's and Ginerva Weasley's wedding. Children were running around in the degnomed, tidy garden; several miniature golden snitches had been bewitched to fly around lazily, while Crookshanks was desperately trying to catch them; the magic fountain in front of the tent gleamed stunningly in the sun's rays, the water erupting from the wands sending cool waves through the garden and marquee; Fawkes stood on a golden pedestal, singing a tender, beautifully stirring song, as all the guests listened in bewilderment. It was not every day that you saw a Phoenix singing at a wedding. But this was no everyday wedding.

Hermione was in one of the many Burrow's bedrooms, admiring her friend's reflection in the mirror. The redhead looked truly astonishing. Her fiery hair was knotted in an elegant, elaborate braid, tangled with golden ribbons at the base of her neck. Her makeup was minimal, with black mascara for her usually almost transparent eyelashes that now stood out more, and a rosy lipstick for her lips. The dress (much to Mrs Weasley's dismay) was a modern one, from a muggle fashion designer. It was an ivory tulle, Ariel style wedding gown covered in mesmerizing details -pearls and lace forming various shapes on its surface. The corset was bound with red lace that followed her cleavage and shoulders to the back, where it enclosed with tiny, golden, snitch-shaped buttons (Hermione herself has charmed them to look so). Ginny didn't wear any jewellery except Aunt Muriel's tiara that every Weasley or future Weasley bride was bound to wear. Her bouquet consisted of six red roses and six white peonies (representing the number of times Harry had defeated Voldemort) with a few stray gold cherry blossoms.

"Ginny, you look simply stunning. But you ought to watch out for Nargles with that bouquet." Luna, who was wearing a simple red gown, said. Hermione threw her a wry smile while adjusting Ginny's tiara.

Ginny shifted uncomfortably, adjusting her corset. "Not now, Luna, please. I'm nervous enough as it is." Ginny complained.

"I'm sorry, Ginny. Don't be nervous, I'm sure everything will be fine."

"Come on, I think it's time we head out. Are you okay?" she asked.

Ginny swallowed and nodded, emotion visible on every feature of her face.

The three girls exited the bedroom and climbed down the many floors of the Burrow. The garden was deserted as Hermione Ginny and Luna walked through it, their gowns making oddly pleasant sounds as they grazed the grass's surface.

As they were preparing to march in, all the guests were already seated in the marquee; the band was playing a bridal march as Luna entered the tent and walked down the long, red carpet with the usual serene smile on her face. Hermione trailed closely behind her, looking at the golden wedding arch in front of her. Harry was sitting under it, looking handsome in his black and burgundy formal robes. He seemed uneasy, but extremely happy, smiling at her as she had to refrain from letting out a sob.

Next to him was Ron, who looked troubled and tired, but happy nonetheless. Hagrid was to his left, wearing a set of formal robes very different from anything Hermione had ever seen him wear. In front of all the gigantic marquee was a large painting with an old man in it, who wore long white hair and a matching beard. His amazing blue eyes were watery behind his half-moon spectacles, but his face contained an emotion she had never seen before on her Headmaster's face while he was alive. Albus Dumbledore would be performing the ceremony from his Hogwarts painting, as Harry had firmly insisted on it.

Hermione took a deep breath, smiled at her former Headmaster when she reached the arch and took her place to its right, near Luna. People were stirring in their places and gasping as Ginny entered the tent at Arthur Weasley's arm. He had a proud look on his face while they marched, kissing his daughter as he gave her hand into Harry's. Molly was silently sobbing in her seat while Minerva McGonagall patted her gently on her back. Everyone went silent then, waiting for Dumbledore to speak.

"Words cannot express" he commenced, surveying the audience "what a great honour it is for me and my portrait to be standing here, in front of all these wonderful people today." He continued, emotion visible on every wrinkle of his face.

"I understand the choice for the officiant was between myself and the Minister, so it pleases me beyond measure that I was favoured to him, even dead." Dumbledore said with a small smile on his wise face. Everyone laughed, Kingsley included.

"For that, I want to thank you, Harry." He said, nodding in his direction. Harry smiled back at his former Headmaster and mentor, then looked back at Ginny, his face full of love and expectation.

"We are gathered here on this symbolic day to celebrate the union of two superb, faithful souls – Harry Potter and Ginevra Weasley- as they wish to spend the rest of their lives cherishing and respecting one another." Dumbledore said, solemnly."Do you, Harry James Potter, take Ginevra Molly to be your magically wedded wife, to have and to hold, from this day forward, for better, for worse, for richer, for poor, in sickness and in health until death do you part?"

Harry inhaled deeply and responded: "I do." Dumbledore smiled brilliantly before he turned to Ginny.

"Do you, Ginevra Molly Weasley, take Harry James to be your magically wedded husband, to have and to hold, from this day forward, for better, for worse, for richer, for poor, in sickness and in health until death do you part?"

"Yes." Ginny responded, visibly stirred by that very moment.

"Then I declare you bonded for life. May the road rise to meet you, may the wind be always at your back, may the sun shine warm upon your faces, may the light of friendship guide your paths together, may the laughter of children grace the halls of your home. And, today, may the Spirit of Love find a dwelling place in your hearts." He concluded, citing an ancient Celtic poem.

A Ministry official then came and waved his wand over the heads of Harry and Ginny, a shower of golden stars falling upon them, making circles around their bodies. Everyone applauded and Fawkes started to sing another blissful, but almost heart wrenching song as the two newlyweds kissed.

After the ceremony, a golden dance floor was produced in the middle of the marquee, glasses of champagne were floating by themselves among the tables, and delicious-looking food appeared on the golden plates in front of every seat. Hermione was sitting at a table with Luna, Neville, George, Angelina Johnson, Ron, Dean and Draco.

Harry exchanged words with Dumbledore's portrait before returning to their table, as Ginny was talking to her Quidditch team colleagues. After the first course was served and finished, the guests began lightly clinking their glasses with their forks, awaiting a speech from the newlyweds. Harry rose from the table, put a Sonorous charm on his throat and said:

"I want to thank you all for being here, on this most amazingly happy day of my life." He looked at all of them, smiling. "You know, I won't say that what Ginny and I have started as love at first sight, because it hasn't. I'm sure that at first, she was only infatuated with the idea of The Boy Who Lived and who befriended her brother at Hogwarts. AS for me, I was just too busy saving the Wizarding world to notice her for the beautiful person she was. I only saw her as Ron's little, shy sister. Her feelings might have grown after the incident in the Chamber of Secrets , but that next year I was just too busy coping with the idea of having a Godfather who supposedly betrayed my parents and who was looking for me…" he said, his voice faltering momentarily and his eyes filling up with tears at the thought of his late Godfather. "You will always be remembered, Sirius." he said, raising his glass of wine, as all the other people in the tent followed his gesture and repeated. "You will always be remembered."

Harry regained his composure and continued.

"We then became friends but I just couldn't see that she was becoming a beautiful, fiery woman, right before my eyes. She later started dating other guys, guys who saw her for what she really was." He said, looking in Dean's direction with a friendly smile "And I think that's about when I realised she wasn't just like a sister to me, at all." Ginny was looking up at him with an amused face, probably curious about what else he was about to confess.

"Of course, there was also the nagging problem of her protective, bigger brother who just so happened to be my best friend. When that was no longer a problem, as Ron was too busy having his face washed off by Lavender." Harry said as everyone laughed, "Ginny and I finally got together, but, alas, in the most unfortunate moment possible: the beginning of the war. The rest is history, and I am sure you all know it well enough." He said, smiling again.

"I love you, Ginny; I love your drive and your passion, your intelligence, your family, your talent for Quidditch, your devotion…" he paused, leaning down and kissing his new wife. "I'm so happy I chose to spend the rest of my life with you. I'm thankful you were all here to witness it." He concluded looking at all the guests once more with an appreciative look before sitting down. Everybody applauded, some smiling, some sobbing.

The party continued with more food, wine, music, dancing and an overall air of celebration.

After the second course was served, Hermione started walking around the marquee greeting old Hogwarts colleagues and teachers, co-workers and former Order members. She had short chats with Hannah Abbott, who was now working at Three Broomsticks in Hogsmeade, Ernie Macmillan, Seamus Finnigan, Lavender, who was "so devastated to hear about she and Ron" and Parvati; She was also very glad to see and talk to Aberforth, Hagrid, Kingsley (who accepted her and Draco's request of remaining investigators until they caught Dolohov), and McGonagall. She was then grabbed by the hand and onto the golden dance floor by Harry, who danced with her in a very brotherly manner. Cormac McLaggen had also tried he same trick, but to no avail.

When she returned at her table, Hermione noticed that only Dean and Ron were there. Ron was sipping from a glass full of Firewhiskey, his face sour. She took her place next to him without saying a word. Ron turned o her when she sat down, leaning his face in, extremely close to hers. His breath tasted like alcohol, and she detested it.

"You are so fucking hot in the dress, 'Mione." Ron said, stammering. "You're the hottest girl from this fucking room, tonight. At least for me." He continued.

"Thank you Ron, you look nice too." Hermione answered politely, not looking him in the eye, but busying herself with a braised asparagus.

"Nice? Nice, you say? See, that's the problem, 'Mione, I'm never good enough for you. You always need... more. I tried, but" he tried to say, "I dunno if I can give you more. But you and me, we can't be done…"

"You and I." she said.

"Sorry?" he asked, hiccupping.

"Never mind, Ron. But you're wrong. The problem is not that you are not good enough for me, it's that we aren't good or enough for each other." She said, rising from the table. Ron grabbed her by the arm painfully and set her down on her chair. "We aren't done 'ere." he said, baring his teeth.

She flinched, unclasping her arm from his hand. "Let go Ron, you're hurting me." He pulled her even harder and lost his balance, falling from the chair, on his back. Hermione gave him a disdainful look and headed to the marquee's exit, trying to withhold tears. She reached the statue only to find someone else looking at it with a fixed gaze.

Hermione stopped next to Draco, avoiding eye contact at first. She looked at Tonks, whose gaze was fixed adoringly upon the face of her husband, Lupin. It was already dark outside, only the tent's lights keeping the garden from being in complete obscurity. Neither said anything for a couple of minutes, until Draco spoke.

"He was brilliant." He said, his eyes on Dumbledore. "Most brilliant man I've ever known. I felt horrible when he died. I was…" he paused. "I can't even express how I felt when Voldemort gave me the mission to kill him." He continued, his face obviously contorted in pain. She had never seen him so emotional, so open about his feelings.

"My father hated him so much; you couldn't even understand that amount of hatred. I couldn't disagree, of course…" he said, running a hand through his hair.

"Draco…" Hermione started, but didn't know how to continue.

"Dance with me, Granger." He then said, turning to look into her eyes. There it was, again. The look in his eyes she couldn't comprehend, couldn't put her finger on. His pupils were dilated, his eyebrows slightly raised but furrowed. He looked…stunning, Hermione could now easily accept. She reached out her hand, which he took, and they both went into the marquee.

The song that was playing was a slow Blues/Jazz type muggle tune that started out slow, before quickly raising its intensity. Hermione loved it.

Draco took her right hand in his left and put his other on her waist, as she put hers on his well-defined shoulder. Draco's hand on her waist was so warm, Hermione's skin was burning underneath it. They were both slowly turning and balancing on the dance floor in a well synchronized rhythm. She never liked dancing much, but dancing with someone who knew what was doing was quite nice. She was afraid she would get sweaty hands from the feelings she was experiencing right then and there, slow dancing with Draco Malfoy. Their faces were slightly leaned in close to one another so she could feel the cool air from his breath tingle her eyes and nose, and Merlin, it smelled divine. She inhaled it silently, and she could feel his scent fill her and awaken every single nerve cell she possessed. Their breathing patterns accelerated, just as the song's rhythm did.

His hand around her waist massaged her lower back, and then pulled her body closer into to his, and she could now feel every fiber of him through his thin summer robes. It made Hermione's head spin and her heart beat at an amazingly fast pace. He smirked, his fleshy lips uncovering his perfect set of white teeth, and Hermione could swear she could feel hot liquid forming in her lower abdomen, pouring lower and lower into her belly, as she was dangerously close to having to tighten her legs shut. This wasn't possible, just a dance with him couldn't arouse her in a way Ron never did. It was all wrong. But oh, so divinely right.

She wanted to lean in closer, to probe his lips with hers, to see if he was just as enticed as she was. But she never did.

His grey eyes were fixed upon hers with an intensity she had never seen before. How his gaze could surprise her differently and arise such various feelings inside her, Hermione didn't know. They probably looked like a couple to the others, dancing so close together and staring at each other so intensely.

They had went to many parties before, but never had they danced together. She neither knew nor cared who was looking at that moment.

He was a good dancer, synchronizing his moves so well with her more clumsy ones. The music was so perfect for what she felt, that butterflies were starting to form in her belly, while she could feel her eyes water. Gods, why was she so emotional lately?

"I thought you would be a clumsy dancer, Granger. I can say I'm a little surprised." He said, smirking. Gods, he was so handsome, how come she hadn't seen it so clearly before? She couldn't, no, she wouldn't talk, as she was afraid her voice would come out all jittery. He took her hand and spun her around once, her hands hitting his sculpted chest when she regained her balance. Her face was even closer to him now, closer than before, and they both had their mouths slightly open and were breathing raggedly, as if awaiting for something monumental to happen, something that would shatter their lives from their very cores. But the song was slowly beginning to fade away. He bent down and softly grazed his lips on her rosy cheek, a million sparks erupting from where they touched. She silently exhaled as the song was over, and he looked at her again and said:

"Thanks, Ace." And he was off without another word.

Onlylater did Hermione realise that she hadn't managed to utter one word to him the whole time. "You're welcome.." she muttered under her breath.

The rest of the night continued without other notable events, as she tried to avoid Ron and Draco for the rest of it. She didn't know why she steered clear from the latter, though.

After 3 food courses, Harry and Ginny cut a 5 tiered gold and red cake with two Firebolts crossed in front. It was really delicious, Hermione thought, but her stomach rejected any food she ingested, no matter how delicious, that day.

Later, people were already starting to leave, only family and close friends remaining in the end. Harry and Ginny would leave for their honeymoon in India and Thailand the very next morning.

Hermione left for her house that night half-heartedly. She didn't want to be left alone with her thoughts. She had been stressed out at the wedding, as they were expecting Dolohov to show up as Epson, but he didn't.

He was, of course, aware of the fact that his disguise had been uncovered, especially after a Hit-Wizard squad had investigated Epson's house yesterday. They hadn't found Epson's body, but the house was full of dark objects and had been horribly neglected. She and Draco would have to go there on Monday to investigate.

And of course, there was Draco. What was happening to them? They were lunching together, dancing, touching, hugging, when did it all start? She had no idea, but it made her stomach flutter just by thinking of it. It was an extremely unnerving feeling, and she got it almost every time she thought of him now. She just hoped it wouldn't interfere with the job they had to do…

Draco had been, Hermione had to admit, very nice to her lately. Yesterday, after the extremely bizarre scene in the Telephone Booth, he had given her a drive home in his stunning Porsche Cayenne. He was a confident driver, but he drove too fast for Hermione's taste. When he stopped in front of her house she felt another strange impulse to invite him in. But she didn't, of course.

She had felt very guilty for even thinking that afterwards, as Ron had barely moved out three days ago. She couldn't let these urges get the better of her again. Not ever. Or, at least not while they were still partners.

Hermione hit her bed fully clothed and exhausted, and fell into a deep, dreamless slumber.

 **Hey guys! There are a few things I'd like to say. Firstly, it was incredibly hard for me to write this chapter, especially the first part. I had thought of it from the very beginning, but writing about Dumbledore was heart wrenching for me. I really hope you enjoy that part. Secondly, I'm sorry for making you wait longer than usual, I'll try not to let it happen again.**

 **If you have any questions at all, don't hesitate to ask me. Love & Please Review!**


	9. Chapter 9, Ablaze

Chapter 9.

The peacocks were walking lazily in the garden's more shadowy places, as the sun was powerful at that time of the day. The garden looked truly beautiful, as Narcissa Malfoy had more time on her hands, so it had become her main focus as of late. She was having her weekly tea with her son, and they have been talking about the garden, the house redecorations, Draco's work and many tedious details of their lives like these, but she couldn't contain her curiosity about the Potter's wedding any longer. She had to ask.

"So, Draco. Punish me no longer. Tell me how the wedding was." Narcissa demanded of her son, sipping her herbal tea and fluttering her long eyelashes.

Draco raised an eyebrow, but responded nonetheless. He didn't stand a chance, anyway.

"I'm sure you've read all about it in the Prophet, mother." He said, slightly rolling his eyes, but just so that his mother wouldn't notice. Narcissa threw him a small smile before continuing.

"You don't expect me to read that rag of a paper, do you?" she asked, ever so coldly. Draco chose to ignore that question, as he didn't want to start a fight with her. He knew very well she read all the relevant newspapers from the magical world. He decided to play along, straightened his back and proceeded filling her in with what he knew would be his mother's favourite pieces of gossip and fashion choices.

"What did the bridesmaids wear, dear?" she asked, a few minutes later into his narration.

"Long, red gowns, according to the wedding's theme." He simply replied.

"Oh, the simply appalling colours that Weasley girl picked. Muggle designers, I presume." She nonchalantly asked, waving a hand in no particular direction.

"Very likely, yes. But they both looked quite lovely." Draco stated. Narcissa then raised a finely plucked eyebrow, but cleared her throat rather silently and chose not to pursue the discussion any further.

A few silent seconds later, curiosity got the better of her. She, of course, had seen the picture of Draco and the Granger girl dancing, _very_ closely together, at the wedding, and she wanted explanations. And plenty of them.

"Especially Miss Granger, I'm sure. I must admit I've come to see her in a whole different light now that she's no longer at that awful Weasley boy's arm." Narcissa tested. She noticed her son tense just a quarter of an inch before speaking.

"I'm not sure where you're hint…" but he was interrupted as two long fingered hands covered his eyes from behind.

"Guess!" a high-pitched voice requested, giggling.

"You almost surprised me for once in your life, Astoria." Draco said, unenthusiastically as he removed the girl's hands from his eyes. Narcissa crinkled her nose at her son's hostile remark.

"Astoria, sweetheart, so nice of you to visit us on this lovely afternoon!" Narcissa said, pretending to be surprised. She knew perfectly well Draco would probably read straight through her, but the matter at hands was a lot more important than her son being a little irritated at her.

"Oh, Narcissa, I know I'm always welcome here!" Astoria said, her smile never leaving her face. The girl walked around the table and sat in the chair closest to Draco. He gave her a better look, not having seen her in quite some time.

She was the same tall, skinny blonde he used to date just a few months ago. She was wearing an extremely short and revealing grey dress that was slit in the middle, making her long, tanned legs even more visible. She was wearing her usual heavy make-up, emphasizing her big, green eyes and her thick, rich lips. Draco had come to deeply dislike her phoniness but she was still perhaps the most beautiful woman he had ever laid his eyes upon. Any man who saw her would probably think she was a dream come true. However, after dating her for over a year, Draco knew perfectly well she was as far from it as possible. She was superficial, extremely needy, possessive and all in all a child that felt she deserved anything and everything. She had no profound beliefs or interests and she reminded him of an unwise, much younger Narcissa Malfoy. And Draco knew very well that was the last kind of women he was interested in marrying or having children with.

"Of course you are, dear." His mother said with a smile on her lips that didn't really reach her icy blue eyes.

"Where is Mr Malfoy? Won't he delight us with his lovely presence?" Astoria asked in her sweet, rather fake tone.

"He's gone with business for a few days." She said, sighing. There was a pause during which no one said anything, Draco's thoughts as far away from the Malfoy manor as possible. After a while, his mother spoke again.

"Draco, dear, won't you take Astoria for a walk in the more shaded parts of the garden? I think we've all cooked enough for today, and I'm heading in for my siesta." Narcissa said, throwing him a suggestive look.

"Oh, I'd really love that, Drake!" Astoria cried, clapping her hands together. Draco sighed, knowing he had no hope of escape, and nodded. Astoria rose from her chair, circled the table and offered him her arm.

Draco took it and they both headed to the group of trees that lay ahead. Astoria stuck close to him, fondling his arm with her soft hands.

"What have you been up to, Tori?" Draco politely asked her.

"Oh, you know, the usual. Attending social events with the old Pureblood families, shopping, playing the piano, nothing much." She said, apparently delighted of what Draco thought to be a complete loss of time. "And yourself? Are you feeling better?" she asked.

"Yes, I'm fine. I still get jolts of pain from time to time, but I've learned to live with them. " he answered. Astoria smiled vaguely as they reached a stone bridge over the small river that passed through the Malfoy propriety. They both stopped there, leaning over the bridge and watching a few ducks swim lazily in the river, drinking from the clear water and appearing to enjoy the afternoon sun.

"You're not wearing the watch from me anymore." She simply observed. Draco didn't answer, letting out a little sigh.

"You know… It is true, Draco, whether you like it or not. My love for you _will_ always conquer, just as purity always will." Draco threw her a scornful look, but she continued.

"And then it's this thing: I can't believe you're associating with people like that Mudblood Granger! What happened to you? Are you seriously that mad at me that you're trying to make me jealous? If that's it, congratulations, you've succeeded!" she screamed.

"You're raving, Astoria, on so many levels right now."

"Tell me, tell me what am I raving about!"

"Purity obviously _hasn't_ and very probably _won't_ conquer! Are you that tied up in your idiotic world that you can't see that? And don't say that word, ever again! Not only can it get you into trouble, but it's also way out-of-place right now! Get your head out of that perfect little princess concept you've been living in, and see the world for what it has truly become. We are no longer arranged to marry, as pureblood marriages are actually frowned upon right now, muggleborns are just as relevant as purebloods, perhaps even more so, and I don't love you, Astoria!" He replied angrily.

"Fine. Then tell me about Granger. What's that picture I saw of you two dancing like two people in love? Do you want to wreck me, Drake? Do you want me to be sick? I can't stand the thought of you even touching other woman!" Astoria shrieked, desperation in her voice, throwing her hands in the air, and then starting to pull her hair from her hair. She was going crazy, yet again.

Draco gripped her hands, taking them from her hair and placing them by her sides, gripping them tightly. The moment she calmed, her wet eyes locked with his. She exhaled loudly and moaned, thrusting her face forward and kissing him breathlessly. She leaned her body into his, running her hands through his hair. Draco kissed her back at first, but then reminded himself that responding would be used against him. Quite literally.

He pulled away from her gently. She looked at him sorrowfully, her lips pouted. She really was just a spoiled little child.

"Tori… You can't have everything you want just because you think it fits you. Trust me, I'm no more right for you than you are for me. Maybe you don't see it now, but believe me when I say it's true. Stop making scenes and throwing yourself at me, it will only make me respect you less. I want us to still have a decent friendship. But that's all, and I truly mean it.". Astoria's look softened a little, then she sighed and left without another word, leaving Draco with his own deep thoughts.

* * *

Hermione pulled uncomfortably on her skirt as she was walking hurriedly towards her office. It was the third time she was questioning her work outfit for the day: a tight, high waist, but quite short black skirt, with two deep slits in front of each leg that revealed a lot more than she usually let on. The top was a simple white loose tank, but it was bare backed. Hermione felt quite confident dressed like this, but she had no idea why she opted for those clothes on a work day. She was still reluctant to ponder upon the real reasons behind that, so she just ignored it.

A few minutes later, and she was already at her desk, examining Dolohov's file. It was extremely thick, as he had been one of the most active Death Eaters during Voldemort's time, and after. She was already emerging in a case report, chewing on her lower lip as she always did when she concentrated, when a Hit Wizard -called Kaczynski- entered the office.

"Granger, we are heading to Epson's to investigate. Malfoy's already there and you're needed too." He said after giving her legs a more insistent look. Well, now she was definitely unsuitably dressed. They both headed to the Atrium to floo over to Epson's house.

A couple of Hit Wizards and Draco were already there when they arrived, murmuring Dark Magic detecting spells and basic counter curses. A few random objects (a hand-mirror, a scroll, a few bottles of various kinds of potions and a sneakoscope) were now piled up in a corner. Hermione looked closely as Draco examined a black leather bound book and then threw it in the pile next to the other things. He lifted his gaze on Hermione, examining her once from head to toe and then –of course– smirking.

"Granger, you're late." He stated, and Hermione could feel her anger levels rising. Of course she was late; he left without letting her know. "There's a chest in the bedroom that we should examine." He added.

"Fine. Let's go." She simply said.

Kraczynski followed Draco but he reached a hand towards his chest to stop him. "Kraczynski, I think you'd all better remain here, in case someone shows up." The Hit Wizard nodded and placed himself in front of the fireplace.

They both entered the bedroom, closing the door behind them. A large wooden chest, engraved with what looked like silver runes stood in front of a mahogany bed in the opposite part of the dark room. The thick curtains were drawn, so very little light came in. Draco nonverbally cast a series of complex unlocking charms on the trunk, but none of them seemed to work on this particular one. He swore under his breath, obviously exasperated. Hermione joined him next to the bed and tried a few charms herself, but to no avail.

"Ok, just let me think for a few minutes, I'm sure I can come up with something else." She said, sitting on the bed.

"Be my guest", Draco replied, taking a seat next to her, studying her closely with his captivating, piercing grey eyes. She wished he hadn't though. The moment he came within reach of her, his amazingly sweet scent filled her nostrils, and thinking straight became rather fruitless for Hermione. She shifted uncomfortably, trying to erase the feeling his presence induced, from her body. Her breathing started to come in short, uneven pants, as her stomach made an already familiar and sort of welcomed flutter. She had learned to accept and actually enjoy the influence his proximity had on her body. She wouldn't let it affect her or her work anymore.

Be that as it may, nothing and no one could have prepared her for what happened next. Hermione rose from the bed and headed for the writing desk that stood across the other side of the room, facing the door. She smoothed down her skirt by running her hands down her butt and legs, and leaned on the desk, trying to think of a method to open the trunk. She heard Draco rise from the bed, walk a few paces and stop, somewhere to her right.

"Ace, remember that party where Epson got… slightly drunk and started telling us about the fact that he used some kind of weird bonding spell on everything that needed locks: desks, drinking cabinets, drawers, probably chests?" Draco was now in front of her, tall and proud, mere inches between them, and Hermione really had to refrain from smiling.

"You're right, this might be the case. So I guess this isn't our job anymore, after all." Hermione said, trying to keep her composure.

"I guess not", Draco added, slightly leaning in closer to her.

"We should call for a few curse breakers." She said, her voice faint.

"Yes, we should." Draco added, his face serious all of a sudden.

Hermione closed her eyes and inhaled him, all of him. No, this was wrong, she had to stop. When she opened her eyes, his were still on her face. His expression seemed to hide some contradictory feelings as well. She was so curious of what those beautiful features were hiding that she raised a hand to caress his cheek, with just the tip of her fingers. At the contact, Draco furrowed his brows and licked his lips, seeming to be confused but somewhat eager about something. Her thumb was still on his cheek, and her other fingers were kneading the soft hair behind his ear, and she could swear Draco shivered under her touch, at least for a moment. Hermione swallowed and began to retake her now usual although fast and irregular breathing and heartbeat pattern, when their faces leaned in closer, a lot closer than usual. She let out a gasp and everything that followed was a hazy blur for her.

Someone, and she could swear she had no idea as to whom, crossed that last, small distance that separated her mouth from his. Then their lips fused together like melting, liquid fire; softly at first, probing, barely touching. Her body was tingling throughout. But oh God, how she wanted, needed so much more, now that this bridge had been crossed. Hermione then leaned into him even more, and he slightly parted his lips, running his wet, hot tongue over hers, licking and tasting. She moaned in response, as every fibre of her being became alive, ablaze. She opened her mouth as well, and thrust her tongue into his, as he lifted her with ease and put her on the desk, their lips never unlocking.

She parted her legs and he pressed himself into her, a thousand butterflies erupting in her belly right then. She kept running her hands through his soft baby hair and kissing him, kissing him like she never kissed anyone, for she had definitely never been kissed like that before. When his tongue entered her mouth she moaned into his, grabbed his buttocks and pressed him harder into her, with a fervour and franticness she didn't recognize. As Draco's hands were now slowly running up her thighs, lifting her skirt, she could feel him harden more and more, and she was sure her kickers were soaking wet since long before. They were both breathing frantically and unevenly, moaning and wailing, but she couldn't find herself to care. Draco's hands were now busy reaching under her shirt and Hermione had to bite down hard on his lower lip as they fondled her hardened nipples, even through her bra, she felt like she had to scream, had to let out all that pleasure that had been building up inside her in some form.

Her eyes had been closed the almost whole time, but now she felt like she had to open them, as she wanted to gaze into his. She wanted the certainty this was not some silly joke, some sort of Malfoy mocking or prank, and looking into his eyes would give her that reassurance, as she could read them like she could translate a Rune text.

As she opened her eyes she thought she was witness to the most beautiful thing on Earth. This man, in front of her, a changed, grown man, with every beautiful feature he possessed was, there and then, into and all about what was happening between them. When his eyes opened as well, she couldn't contain her emotion anymore and exhaled loudly into his mouth. Draco's eyes were full of passion and had darkened a few shades into a charcoal grey; a thing that, Hermione would later come learn, only happened when he was aroused behind measure. He was drawing circles on her bare back, making goosebumps erupt all over her skin when the door she had a full view of opened and a dark haired wizard came in, his face confused at first, but then contorted in utter shock.

"I- uhh…" was all that he managed to say, before heading back and closing the door after him.

 **Dudettes and dudes, I want to thank you for sticking with me, I hope you like where this is going. If you have any questions, suggestions or anything at all for that matter, feel free to let me know. Lots of love!**


	10. Chapter 10, Game

Chapter 10.

Rain was pouring on the streets of London. The atmosphere, the air were once again filled with the lugubrious smell of rain on the dusty pavement. The sun was hiding somewhere behind the grey clouds and Hermione hoped she wouldn't see it for at least a few days. She was tired of it, and oh, how she loved the rain. It seemed that it was the perfect thing missing in order to complete her actual state: concentration, confusion, change, and all in a bittersweet way. This heavy falling rain was like the perfect closure that wrapped up all those feelings and packed them together in a well-organized pack. It was a peculiar sensation, really.

Hermione secretly enjoyed how her life was at that moment. She didn't know why, but finally, the balance between certainty and uncertainty had been reached to a perfect equilibrium. Her job was stable, as she was guaranteed a very good position for probably the rest of her life, a position from which she could easily crawl her way up through the Department of Magical Law Enforcement, gain influence and finally manage to have a say in the important matters that happened in the magical world. She would, of course, help abolish for good the ridiculous Pure Blood Laws and the House-elf rights she felt were so deeply neglected. She was also certain they would find and capture Dolohov, so all this post war mess would come to an end. She was certain she made the perfect choice finishing things with Ron. She was uncertain their friendship would ever be the same, but if it had ever been real, they would get through things. Most of her uncertainties were, however, related to a certain blond haired, extremely handsome wizard.

When Harry walked in on them the other day, Hermione was certain she would evaporate on the spot of shame. She was moaning, her cheeks were flushed, her skirt raised, her hands were all through Draco's hair, whilst his were on her leg and under her shirt. She was sitting on the desk, with him between her legs, for Merlin's sake! And my, did it feel like the most natural thing in the world. Most natural, yet exciting thing in the world. They broke their kiss when Harry's presence became known, but Draco didn't fully turn around, as he probably didn't want his erection visible to whoever entered the room. When Harry's eyes lay upon them he stammered, frowned, stammered some more and then exited the room like a thunder. Draco moved from between Hermione legs, as she adjusted her skirt and shirt leaving the room without giving him another glance. She was quite sure she _heard_ him smile before she closed the door, and she couldn't help but smile to herself as well. Her stomach still felt full, like a heavy rock dangled all its weight down her belly. Her breathing was ragged and she was pretty sure her panties were soaked.

She went back to the Ministry, alone, informed the Head of the Department that a curse breaker was needed at Epson's house and decided she had to confront Harry now rather than later. She was almost at his bureau when she realized a minor detail escaped her plan: What would she tell him? Why was she kissing the soul out of Draco Malfoy at an investigation site, merely a week after she and Ron had broken up? She had no good enough explanation for that, at least not for Harry. The funny thing was, she didn't feel like explaining herself at all, as of late. She had explained herself, given her whole self to others for almost all of her life. She had thought, sacrificed, closed her eyes, gone to hell and back for others and now she felt like she could do whatever she felt like. And God, now she felt like continuing this little seduction game she and Draco were playing. It made her feel alive, desired and oh, so incredibly sexy.

" _Hi. Am I disturbing?" Hermione asked after entering Harry's office. He was raising his wand tip to his temple and releasing fine, silvery strands of memories from it, into a pensive._

" _If I said yes, would you go away?" Harry responded._

" _No." she shyly answered, almost inaudibly._

" _Thought so. Fine, go ahead. I'm dying to hear what it is that you've got to say." He said, his eyes now on Hermione. She cleared her throat, took a seat across from him, and smiled._

" _We haven't really discussed the Ron matter, have we? You have no idea what's been on my mind. And Harry, it's been for a lot longer than you can even guess. Trust me." She commanded. Harry's expression didn't change, so Hermione found it safe to continue._

" _Harry, it was almost destined to fail, my relationship with Ron. The only reason we were together for this long is because we had huge pressure on our shoulders. Pressure to do things, to save the damn world, to remain together and hold everyone else together. Do you honestly thing this is a good enough reason to remain in a relationship?"._

 _Harry threw a last drop of silvery memories into the Pensive and sighed. "We're not here to talk about Ron, are we?" he finally asked._

" _No, you're right. But I want you to know that my soul hasn't been in it for a long time. And it's not like Ron was a saint, either. And it's not like I haven't tried to talk to him, tell him that we're not going in the right direction, but Ron is Ron and he chose to ignore everything constructive I had to say. And even though I remained with him from questionable reasons, I've never cheated on him, physically or emotionally. I am not guilty of anything, and I won't let you make me feel otherwise, I don't deserve it!" Hermione said, her anger levels rising. Harry sighed again, rose from his chair and circled the room once, his hands deep into his robe pockets._

" _It still feels like betrayal, you know?" he finally said. "I mean, whatever was going on between you and Ron, did you have to go kissing another guy so soon? And Malfoy, nonetheless?"_

" _What is this? 6_ _th_ _year at Hogwarts? Really?"_

" _Hermione, it is one thing to accept and forgive him, have a reasonable work relationship with him and maybe chat with him at a few parties or in the corridors, but…"_

" _But WHAT? Flirting, kissing, isn't allowed? It's not like I'm marrying him, Harry. Get over yourself. Just because you're in a serious relationship with Ginny it doesn't mean everyone has to have the same. I'm just having fun, can't I do that. Haven't I earned that, after all this time?" Hermione screamed._

" _Sure you can! But Malfoy will hurt you!"_

" _So what, now I'm a little girl that men have to treat with care so they don't hurt her? Just because Ron was a jerk to me an infinite number of times while he was my friend and then my boyfriend, doesn't mean Draco will! For all I know, he and I have been friends for over a year and he hasn't hurt me in any possible way, on the contrary! How's that for assessment?" Hermione screamed, throwing her arms everywhere, her wild hair flying all around her face._

 _Harry didn't respond. He simply stared back._

" _Fine, 'Mione. But I won't be the one to tell Ron. And I won't be the one who'll comfort you when all this goes downhill, either. " Hermione pouted her mouth, pierced him with her "burn in hell" look and stormed out the door._

 _When she reached her office door she straightened her hair, took a deep breath, and entered. The room was in semi obscurity, as the fake windows were partially covered in heavy, matte, blue curtains. Draco was writing what looked like a very long letter. His handwriting was elaborate and beautiful, but not in the most obvious way. This was another thing she really liked in him: all men she knew had sloppy handwriting. Draco didn't. He didn't raise his head when he heard her entering, but kept writing, his brows slightly furrowed, biting his lower lip. Hermione could already feel her knees weaken. This wasn't fair. Nobody should have this effect on anyone, through only their sheer presence._

 _She took her place at her desk and started organising her files and notes. She still had some Ancient Runes to translate before heading home, and she was determined to finish earlier. She cleared her throat and started browsing her International Magical Ancient Runes for Advanced Translators. A few minutes later she heard a seat being dragged from the desk but chose not to look up, even if her concentration was more than compromised. This felt like a children's game, so she would play along. By not saying anything._

 _She heard the door open and close, a sign that Draco had exited the room. She exhaled deeply, releasing some tension. What had just happened? She felt safe to throw a look in his desk's direction: the letter was also gone. He probably went to send it. Hermione resumed her precious job, and in a few minutes she snapped into her concentration mode: eyes narrowed and chewing her lips or, like in this case, her writing feather._

 _It was in this state that Draco found her, entering the office. Hermione looked up involuntarily when she heard the door and found him dumbstruck, standing in the doorway. She then smiled involuntarily when she met his gaze. Draco frowned and then simply said : "Stop chewing on all the Ministry's feathers, Granger. You're blowing a hole in their office supplies deposit."_

And that was pretty much it. After that, they didn't exchange another word for a couple of hours before he left with a simple "Have a nice day, Granger."

The strangest thing was that she didn't feel a hole in her chest like she expected to. This thing between she and Draco, it was a game. And it didn't bother her one bit.

* * *

Hi guys! I'm sorry for this horrible delay, but my summer's been kind of busy in the last month. I still have two more weeks of vacation and I plan on finishing this fanfic before things start to get serious in university. This is a shorter chapter that I mainly posted because I wanted you to know I'm still alive and writing, but the next ones will be longer and with more real content, I promise. Love you!


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